Land of the Sun
by willieworks01
Summary: This is the continuation of 'Brenan's Search'. Following the calamities of the last year, the Lion Camp and the Aurochs Camp are warned by Vincavec of impending disaster, the Northern Mamutoi are on the march with bad intentions. Their story continues.
1. Chapter 1

**Earth's Children is a registered trademark of Jean M. Auel and the books in the series, The Clan of the Cave Bear, The Valley of Horses, The Mammoth Hunters, The Plains of Passage, and The Shelters of Stone. This Fan Fic is for the simple enjoyment of fans of the Earth's Children series of books and myself, and has not been written for profit or to intentionally infringe on the registered trademark held by Jean M. Auel. Reproduction of this work for profit of any kind is expressly prohibited.**

**Introduction:**

The 'Land of the Sun' is the continuing story of 'Brenan's Search'. If you have not read 'Brenan's Search', I have done very little 'catch up' so the story may not make much sense.

Following a long conversation with my father about the Lion Camp, the Mamutoi, and the interesting cast of characters introduced to us in 'The Mammoth Hunters', I decided to write my own version of what happened to them after Ayla left the summer meeting.

'Brenan's Search' was written as an alternate book four of the 'Earth's Children' series. Jean followed Ayla in her travels while I introduced a young Mamutoi man who travels to the Lion Camp. The 'Land of the Sun' picks up where 'Brenan's Search' ends. As before, I have tried to stick with the canon Auel prescribed as closely as possible, and have written this in book form. There is a measure of sometimes rather graphic violence in a few places, and I have tried to treat the story with the 'rugged reality' of the times. This is a long story and will take a while to tell.

Thanks for reading and commenting.

Here we go.

willieworks01

**Chapter One**

_**The Clan**_

The edges of the thin grey clouds on the eastern horizon began to change colors slowly with the coming of the dawn. The sky lightened ever so gradually off to the east as the sun slowly painted the clouds with pastel oranges and pinks. A sparkling host of reflected colors spread across the rippling tops of the gentle rolling waves of the river down below the slight bluff, glistening in the waning darkness. A soft, cool breeze blew over the top of the water and up the gentle rise.

Rug sat alone cross legged on the cool ground next to the small camp fire a few steps outside of the long, narrow traveling tent. The tent was comfortably nestled between a pair of short trees on the edge of the bluff on a grassy flat. He dropped a few fresh sticks into the flames and listened to the soft pops and muted whistles as they caught fire over the brightly glowing coal bed. Rug watched the artistry of the dawn with appreciation, the beauty before him gave him a strong sense of security. Ursus was obviously pleased with the decision of his Clan to travel.

A pair of meadow larks whistled in the new day, one from just across the river, the other was farther away to the south. Their whistling became a melody with an echo, and before long another bird joined their pleasant early morning song.

If the directions that Lud-dag had given the Clan when they began their journey were correct, they would need to cross the river soon. Lud-dag had told them that the river would take a sharp bend to the west and get rather narrow and swift with rising rocky bluffs about half a moon cycle out from the Lion Camp, heading south. Tonight or tomorrow night the moon would be full, a half moon cycle into their journey.

That, or they could go another half of the phase of the moon on down river where it widened out and stayed pretty shallow in a large flat bottomed, marshy lake. The river would be a little easier to cross there, but it was a wet, lowland area chock full of heavy mud and annoying insects. This would also put them very near another Mamutoi camp, a camp of people that they didn't know. That could be a dangerous idea, Rug thought while tugging on his scraggly beard and watching a particularly beautiful rose colored cloud, and it was probably not worth the risk. All the people of the Others could not be counted on to be as friendly as those of the Lion and Aurochs Camps had been, this much was absolutely certain.

Thus far, the small Clan had traveled very well together. It took only a day or two for them to establish a comfortable routine, and they had made significant progress after the first few days particularly. The breaks in usual Clan traditions of both walking in line and in the order of their status while traveling to their new home had caused a little grief. Mostly, the tension was felt from the women, but they were doing better, being constantly spurred on and reassured by Etra and the Mog-ur. Before too much longer they may even get used to the idea that this Clan was now just a little different than normal. Actually, they were no longer the Clan that they once were in more ways than one. To survive, they had been forced to change many of their traditions in the last year or so, and more changes were bound to be before them.

Mog-ur had insisted that they keep up a swift, controlled pace, one that pushed them-but only slightly. The Clan seemed to get a little stronger and were able to go a little farther every day as they all got into better traveling shape and physical condition. The predominately smooth terrain along this side of the river had made for fairly easy walking for the most part, thus far anyway. Clean drinking water and fresh vegetables and edible greens were all plentiful. Mog-ur had warned them in the beginning that this journey would take so long that he could not even guess how long they would be traveling.

Rug watched the beauty of the dawn and thought about the tragic but incredible series of events that had led his small Clan to this very river bank. This place so very far away from their old home. How long had it been, he wondered to himself, over a year now, maybe a little more.

Just over a year ago Rug had been out on a short morning hunt with a few of his fellow hunters, Draag, Troog, Crag, and Borg. It was a lazy, halfhearted hunt, for they did not really need fresh meat for their large, well stocked cave. Men of the Clan, however, were meant to hunt-so hunt they did. He thought back and remembered in startling detail how they plodded back toward the cave carrying the young wild sow between them suspended between two spears by the legs. The hunters had unexpectedly come across their Mog-ur badly wounded in his favorite place of meditation. It was on top of a short rock bluff that overlooked the woods and one of the main paths that led back to the cave. He was gravely wounded with a long, flint tipped spear still imbedded deeply in the center of his chest. Mog-ur was alive, but barely.

The hunters had immediately dropped the pig and rushed to their Mog-ur, and removed the spear. They did their best to quell the massive, bubbling bleeding from his chest. None of the hunters were trained seriously in any of the healing arts, rudimentary first aid was all any of them knew. Rug could still see the pain in the holy man's eyes, he could still feel the deep stab of fear in his own heart. Only the men of the Others used flint tips on their spears, what could this possibly mean?

Rug shivered at the memory of the frightening sight of the small band of the men of the Others that they could see through small gaps in the treetops back at the mouth of their cave. Inside the cave opening and out in front of the entrance near the fire, they were all over the place, spears high and threatening. The hunters gathered around the holy man and together they carried the Mog-ur down off the craggy bluff as gently as they were able to through the loose rocks and gravel that gave them fits to keep their footing as they worked their way to level ground.

They were all stunned and distressed to see all the dead people of their own Clan littering the ground in front of the entrance to their cave through the cover of the trees. Men, women and children, there seemed to be no one left alive. He could still see the weak, feeble signs that Mog-ur made as he told the hunters that carried him to flee their home cave, to get away now-to go north. They slipped off the main trail and worked their way through the trees to the far western trail that led deeper out into the heavy woods. They cut back north only when they were well out of sight of the front of the cave. Coming to a small clearing between two tall stands of conifers, they slowed and looked back toward the cave area.

Rug thought back to the anger and total feeling of helplessness that he had experienced when he looked back at the front entrance of their home cave. He had heard a familiar voice softly in the distance. Rug looked over to see the tall man of the Others just as he threw a spear and hit a kneeling Clan woman as she wailed over the prone body of a very young boy, her only child. He had never seen a spear thrown before, never even heard of such a thing. Rug would never forget the destructive power he saw as the woman bowled over backwards by the force of the thrown spear. Her wailing ceased before she hit the ground.

The strangeness continued. The hunters came across a small group of women and children who had been out gathering food in a common small clearing as they skirted around the cave and cut back northeasterly through the woods. They took the women and children with them and fled due north, as fast as they could go. The trip was hard, they had no traveling provisions at all. Mog-ur still had to be carried as did the two small children. The men had fashioned a sling out of a pair of their wraps and carried him between four of them, the children were carried on the hips of their mothers. Mog-ur was in bad shape, the wound was very serious and there was no medicine woman among them to help him.

The small Clan finally stopped after eight or nine chaotic days of travel due north, and found a decent place to set up a small camp. Mog-ur was slowly dying, this much was obvious, and the men wanted to make his last days as comfortable as possible. The hunters immediately went to work to try and procure some provisions. They hunted with abandon and brought back three large aurochs and a young bison over the next few days. Hides were made into tents and new wraps and the meat was dried and smoked. Still Mog-ur held on, but he seemed to weaken a little bit more each day.

Rug remembered thinking at the time that things were finally starting to settle down, the makeshift camp was comfortable and food was abundant in and around the valley. Mog-ur though, was fading before their eyes. He had always been such a robust, though slightly older man-very strong in body and spirit, but this massive wound was slowly killing him. The Clan would stay put until the Mog-ur's time came to go on to the spirit world before deciding where to go to look for a new home, and what to do next.

Then came another band of the Others.

A soft noise from the direction of the tent entrance broke Rug's train of thought. He looked over to see the young boy, Brug, coming out of the tent with three spears loose in his hands.

Brug wore the new clothes that Etra and Aba had made for him and the rest of the Clan at the Aurochs Camp of the Others during this last winter. The clothes were not the usual Clan style of full animal skins wrapped around the body and tied at the waist. These skins had been cut and sewed together in a strategic manner. A pair of leggings were loosely tied at the waist, and the tunic was form fitted as well, though loosely, with sleeves that flared out wide just above the top of his wrists. The wide belt that he had tied around his waist had several pouches attached to it with folded over flaps, they all bulged with their contents.

The young boy looked to Rug and made a respectful sign of greeting, and then reached back over his wide shoulders and slid two of the short spears into a heavy leather scabbard that was slung across his back. The flint tipped spear tips stuck up over his head when they were in place at an angle across his back.

'I have tea made,' Rug signed, motioning at the water tight basket near the fire.

The boy shook his head, politely declining the offer then signed. 'I will hunt for our first meal now.'

'All right, but don't get too far out of sight.'

'Yes, "Rug." Brug spoke the leader's name, his voice deep and guttural.

Rug watched the boy leave, his hunter's steps light and silent on the short grass damp with dew. He yawned, and kept an eye on the boy while his mind wandered back to the coming of the second group of the Others to their makeshift camp so long ago now. How different they were, they were nothing like the evil ones who had decimated the home cave of his Clan, and they had women of the Others with them. Why, these people of the Others could even speak correctly in the old ancient language of the Clan, though their comprehension and signing was very crude at best.

Following a rather tense and adversarial first meeting, Mog-ur had insisted that the Clan share a meal with these Others. Rug remembered how testy and awkward that first meal with these people of the Others had been. The men of the Others had actually helped clean a freshly killed young deer-the men. It was a strange meal that he would never forget, ever.

Mog-ur had been the biggest surprise, though, he had acted like they were almost old friends. The two vastly different groups of people told each other their recent histories of how they had all come to be in this serene valley. The story that they told, the tale of the Others killing and fighting with their own kind was all so unbelievable. Then it got even more unbelievable when it was ascertained that these evil men of the Others from the northeast were probably the same ones that had raided the cave of their own Clan. To make it even more strange, these Others felt obligated to help this Clan.

Mog-ur had eventually even allowed the medicine woman of the Others to treat his wounds. Rug had been so distraught at the time, Mog-ur was dying fast enough on his own, how could these Others help him now. How could a woman, even a medicine woman of the Others possibly help a dying man of the Clan-but somehow she had.

It had been such an incredible surprise to the entire Clan when Mog-ur improved dramatically from the ministrations of the two women of the Others. He had shown some improvement from the very first few days following the treatments. Mog-ur had ultimately recovered, for the most part, from his most grievous wound. Though he would probably never be quite the same physically again, he was strong again now, for an older man anyway. The medicine woman Tress-ee had been absolutely fabulous, she and the large woman Trull-ee were awe inspiring in their tireless efforts to help him.

Rug watched Brug slow his walk as he approached a few shorts bushes and raise his spear up level with his shoulder. He crept forward one slow step at a time, quiet and patient with great stealth. The boy had more skills as a hunter at his tender young age than anyone Rug had ever seen, he was barely into his fifth year. The young lad had made at least one small animal kill every day since they had begun their journey, and some days two-or more. Rug heard the soft rustling of something exiting the second bush in front of the boy and watched as Brug set himself and let his spear fly with a graceful, sudden burst of strength and agility.

Brug never took his eyes off his prey. He pulled another spear from the scabbard on his back with a fluid, well practiced motion. Brug pulled the spear into position as he walked past the first bush and into the taller grass slowly and quietly.

Rug again thought back to the time while Mog-ur was still healing when the men of the Others had taught he and his other Clan hunters how to make and throw this new, different type of spear. It had been so difficult at first, and it had seemed like they were all directly challenging the will of their ancestors by deviating from the usual and accepted ways and traditions of the Clan. Crag, his hunt leader, had been especially bothered by even trying to learn this new way of using a spear, but the very idea of being able to kill from such a great distance had appealed strongly to them all. These men were born to hunt, it was just about all they knew. The Clan normally used a spear for stabbing only, it was quite a culture shock to learn the hunting ways and weapons of the Others.

A wave of chill bumps washed over him. He thought back to their accidental discovery that the evil men of the Others that had decimated their home cave were near their temporary camp in the valley. Rug remembered the powerful words of Mog-ur and the huge woman leader of the Others, Trull-ee. They proclaimed together that these evil men must be stopped and sent on to the spirit world to face the judgement of Ursus and Mut once and for all. The well planned, layered banded ambush, an old hunters trick normally used by the Clan only to rid themselves of large predators that had encroached on their hunting territories, had worked to absolute perfection. The execution of the ambush was flawless. The evil ones had all been killed in a sudden, deadly wave of thrown spears without a single injury to the Clan or to the Others that helped them. The devastating power of the throwing spears used by the Others had left an impact on the men of the Clan that would never fade. The raiders were all taken out so quickly and easily-all because of this formidable new weapon. It was the last reason the Clan hunters needed to want to learn this new way of hunting.

Rug still had an occasional nightmare about the horrific event. They all did.

Brug's soft, approaching footfalls brought him slowly back to the present.

Rug was pleased to see Brug walking out of the bushes toward him with a fat hare dangling from his left hand from the long rear legs. The look of satisfaction on his face was unmistakable, and well deserved. This boy could hunt, he had single handedly kept the Clan supplied with fresh meat every day thus far on their journey.

Mog-ur and Etra walked out of the tent, with Inca and Aba close behind. They all joined Rug at the fire, and dipped tea from the basket. Mog-ur sat down next to Rug, and the women, except for Aba, busied themselves with the baskets and tied bundles of food they carried out from the tent. Aba saw her son Brug walking back to the camp and walked out to meet him. She took the hare from him and they walked back the rest of the way together. The look of pride across Aba's face was unmistakable.

'That is a nice fat hare, it will taste good at our first meal.' Mog-ur signed to the boy as they approached the fire.

Brug's eyes shown bright with the pride he felt whenever the holy man of his Clan praised him. He sat between the two adults and took a cup of hot morning tea from Etra, grunting softly to her in the usual show of appreciation as she handed it to him.

Aba set the hare on the ground on top of a wide, flat rock and began skinning and preparing it for their first meal. Etra had decided to make a small basket of stew with the leftover cooked grain mash from the meal of the night before. Aba sliced the hare into wide strips to be browned over the spit before she would slice the meat into small pieces and add them to the stew.

Draag and Troog came out of the tent to join the rest of them, with Ova and her little girl Ooga toddling along right behind them. Ooga went straight to the Mog-ur and climbed into his lap, it was her new morning routine. She was overly fond of the holy man and it was obvious that her warm feelings were returned in kind, he had almost become the substitute man of her hearth. She looked up into the Mog-ur's deep brown eyes and tugged softly on his scraggly, course beard, just like she had done when she was a baby. Her dark eyes glistening with feeling and even a slight little bit of mischief.

Draag yawned, he had taken the first watch last night, and was still sleepy and tired from the previous day's travel. Troog sat next to Rug and sipped the tea that Inca handed him and Draag. Draag appeared to be lost in the fire as he stared at the graceful yellow fingers of flame, he yawned again.

The clouds glowed bright orange above them now, and the meadow larks songs rang out with the force of numbers from the grassy meadow across the river. It was a beautiful, brisk morning.

Crag walked up from the river with a dangling water bag bulging from each hand. He set them down near Aba who laid the skin of the hare on the grass next to the flat rock she worked on. He walked back to the fire and sat between Brug and Rug, patting the boy affectionately on the shoulder as he did.

'Tell me how you hunted the hare,' Crag signed. He always had Brug give him all the details of his hunts. Brug loved to tell the Clan's hunt leader of his exploits, it made him feel more like the man he just couldn't wait to be. He told Crag all about the hunt, from the very beginning, answering the older hunter's many questions and queries as he went.

Crag made him think about and analyze every aspect of what all he did from the time he started out until after the kill itself. The men of the Clan always did this after every hunt. All actions and movements were scrutinized and discussed at length from every angle to learn what worked well and what could have been better. They were very meticulous and thorough. These men lived and breathed hunting, and nothing about hunting ever escaped them. It was simply who and what they were, little else interested them.

'...and there was only one hare?' Crag signed.

'It was all I saw, but I had another spear ready as I approached.' Brug said with a serious look, he knew better than to approach a kill without a weapon ready.

**********

Rug led them through a tall stand of chest high grass, stomping it down to make it easier for those behind him. Crag followed him a few steps behind, they carried a thick pole on their shoulders with a hanging skin of supplies suspended between them, and flint tipped spears loose in their hands. Rug's forward vision was somewhat impaired by the occasional taller shoots of the wide blades of grass, and it made him a little nervous. They had veered away from the river to gather carrots and onions up the banks of a small feeder creek before Rug changed their direction and led them back over the rise and toward the river again.

The late afternoon sun was hot and bright in a mostly clear sky and the wind was sporadic at best, blowing in soft gusts that wasn't near enough to cool the sweaty travelers. Birds all around were overly active, getting a last bite to eat and a drink at the river before dusk set in. Their whistling songs permeated the area with an abundance of varying melodies.

Crag pulled back against the pole when Rug slowed to stomp down a particularly tall clump of grass. Rug looked back at him with a puzzled look on his rugged, sweat streaked face.

"Brug" just killed a nice fat marmot.' Crag signed with a satisfied look on his wrinkled face.

Rug nodded, then signed. 'We will make camp soon, I would like to get back closer to the river first, though.'

Crag grunted in acknowledgment, and the two of them moved on to stomp down the next bit of tall grass. We may never need to eat the traveling foods we brought, he thought, using the edge of the point of his spear to cut through some of the grass at ground level. Just as he pulled his spear back up to his waist he heard a soft rustling from somewhere in the grass out in front of them, off to their left.

Rug looked up at the same time, and both men set the heavy pole off their wide shoulders and laid the bundle on the ground quietly and had their spears up and ready in a fluid motion. Their eyes scoured the high grass out in front of them for movement, any movement, watching carefully. They heard more soft sounds in the tall grass, but it sounded a little farther away this time, maybe coming from the far side of the short hilltop.

Crag looked back to make eye contact with Etra, the closest person following them several steps back, and made a sign for her and the rest to stop and wait. He and Rug moved forward quietly toward the sounds. When they got to the highest point of the rise, both men crouched low and moved even more slowly looking down the slope out in front of them. Rug reached over and touched Crag's arm, then pointed to a thick bush just over the top of the grass.

It took Crag a moment before he saw what Rug did, a wide palmate antler barely visible on the far side of a thick, berry covered bush. The large moose lifted his head to chew, and looked around. He had to be huge if his head and antlers were any indication of his size, and he lowered his head to get another bite of the fresh leaves at the bottom of the bush. The bush rustled softly as he lowered his head.

Rug stayed completely still until the moose disappeared completely from their line of sight, then signed to Crag. 'We don't need him for the meat, should we let him go?'

Crag nodded his head in agreement, though the very thought of bringing down this magnificent creature appealed to him strongly. The first kill he ever made with the throwing spears of the Others was a moose, and he had never tasted finer meat. The belt he wore around his waist was made from the hide of that moose. Crag knew that they had about all they could comfortably carry now, but the urge to hunt was still so strong.

'We should let him go,' he signed with resignation.

Rug nodded, and the two men walked back to where they had dropped their burden and picked it back up to their shoulders. Crag made a motion for the rest of the Clan to follow and trudged on over the rise.

The old bull moose eyed them warily for a brief moment when he first heard them, then lumbered away nimbly down the short hill and out of sight through the brush beyond to the west into the trees. The sounds of his footfalls faded away.

The river came back into view just past a stand of short evergreens down below them to their left, and the Clan quickened their steps at the inviting sight. Rug looked for a good spot to set up the tent for the night, and he and Crag dropped their heavy pole to the ground to walk around and examine the area. Troog and Draag set their hanging skin of supplies down near the pole already on the ground, and all four men flexed their wide, powerful shoulders to loosen up cramped, sore muscles as they looked around. A gentle, grassy drop off separated them from the muddy banks of the peaceful river below.

Etra followed Rug and together they spotted a grassy flat that looked like a good spot for the tent. The river was close here, just a dozen steps down the low rise. Rug nodded to her, and she motioned for Inca and Aba to help her.

The women got busy unpacking the tent from the hanging skins now laid out on the ground, and went to work setting it up. The men walked around stretching sore muscles and giving the general area good looking over. Aba carried the marmot that Brug had killed down to the edge of the river to skin him out, Crag went with her.

Troog walked down to the river bank, then explored further on the shore to the north to gather driftwood. He found a jagged log that had been swept downstream stuck into the muddy bank by the trunk at an odd angle holding back a wide clump of limbs and branches from being swept further downstream. Most of them were above the waterline. With the blunt end of his spear, Troog pulled some of the smaller branches free from the pile and up onto the banks. They would dry out enough to burn in a few hours, and he piled them up on the ground before reaching down and wrapping his hairy arms around them and picking them all up, pressing them against his wide, powerful chest. He picked up his spear and turned and walked back up to the camp.

Rug and Mog-ur walked down river along the bank to the south, the riverbank began to get rockier and started a slow turn to the east. They walked up to a gravel bluff that extended all the way down and into the water, there were many large boulders and jagged rocks in the formation.

'This is probably the place that "Lud-dag" told us about, where the river turns sharply.' Rug signed to Mog-ur.

Mog-ur nodded, looking out at the river that they needed to cross. He motioned to Rug and both men started to climb up the bluff of loose rock to get a better look. Footing was difficult and tedious, more than once the rocks they stepped on slid out from under them. When they reached the apex, they stood together and observed the path of the river. This was the place, all right, it matched the descriptions to a tee.

The river narrowed and turned sharply to the west around the other side of the rocky outcrop and the opposite bank rose up to push the water hard into half its previous width. The rippling waves grew taller and tighter together as the moving water quickened its pace considerably. The rocks on the opposite shore were jagged and sharp where the river had chipped away at them over time, it was a fearsome sight. The narrow channel forced the water into a tight, swift waterway for as far as they could see from here. The surface of the river rolled into deeper white capped waves and swells as it narrowed and picked up speed even more as the river turned its course. The current looked treacherous, as did both rocky shorelines. This crossing would be no easy task.

"Lud-dag" said that we should start upstream and get to the middle of the river and the current would carry us to the other side just before the rock ledge rises up on the other side.' Rug signed, a slightly worried look on his rugged face.

'Yes,' Mog-ur replied. 'It appears to be the best way.'

Mog-ur watched a limb float through the water in the middle of the river. It bobbed and danced on the turbulent surface. The water was erratic and powerful, and the limb was actually pulled under for a brief stretch by the current that veered sharply to the west and away from the jagged rocks on the other side. It picked up speed noticeably and spun around a few times before disappearing around the bend and out of sight.

A subtle movement caught Mog-ur's eye, and he focused his eyes up to the top of the rocky bluff on the other side. The head and shoulders of a large grey wolf was barely visible through a pair of large, light colored boulders near the top of the bluff. He looked down directly at the Mog-ur, and their eyes locked together for a long, quiet, serene moment. Mog-ur felt a ripple of warmth slowly wash over his tired and aching body, reassured from the sudden presence of the living vision of his totem. He could feel the inner strength and power of the animal, majestic and soothing. Mog-ur made a subtle hand gesture toward the wolf, and was pleased when the wolf stared at him and slowly lowered his head before slipping away and out of sight. This is a good omen, possibly even a sign from Ursus, he thought, looking back down to the dangerous river.

Rug turned and started making his way off the rocky bluff. Mog-ur took a last look back across the river for the wolf, but he was gone, and started back down following Rug.

**********

'We will need to go back upstream a little way before we build a raft to cross the river with.' Mog-ur signed to the Clan sitting around the fire in front of the tent.

The Clan were all relaxing from a hot meal of fresh strips of marmot and a mixed grain porridge, and most sipped tea as the Mog-ur addressed them. Almost all of them had only their leggings on, having bathed in the cold waters of the river following the meal. The sky was almost completely dark now and the breeze that came up the bluff from the river was cool and getting stronger. The fire popped and smoked with the slightly wet fuel gathered from the river. A few of the largest stars twinkled above them.

'This will be a difficult crossing, and we must prepare for it well. The river will be swift and we must make it out past the center of the current before it narrows through a rocky gorge that is bordered by jagged, steep shores around this bend.' Mog-ur waved his arm toward the rocky bluff, then he stopped and let this sink in for a moment before continuing.

'In the morning we will go back north until we find enough suitable materials to make an adequate vessel for the crossing. We will need to find a good place to camp for a few days.'

Etra looked at Mog-ur as he sat back, the dark tattoo on his bare chest shown eerily in the flickering firelight. She couldn't help but to shiver as she stared at it, the dark symbol of the sun with its black fingers of flame stretching from the deep indention in the center of his scarred, hairy chest. From the deepest recesses of her most ancient memories this symbol stood out, exactly as it appeared on his chest. The symbol of the 'Land of the Sun', the original home of their ancestors. The birthplace of the Clan itself. A fabled land that had no real winter seasons, a land of plenty, the new home of the Clan-if they could get there.

She diverted her eyes as Mog-ur glanced up at her, embarrassed to have been caught being so terribly impolite. Etra remembered the first time she had seen this tattoo, appearing as if by magic from behind the bloody strips of rabbit skin bandages from the Mog-ur's near fatal wound. The medicine woman of the Others, Tress-ee, and the large woman, Trull-ee had used the red hot, glowing end of a broken spear shaft to seer and treat the gaping, bleeding wound. The resulting scar had been colored a deep grey, almost black by the ashes of the smoldering spear tip. The scar had miraculously been formed into this magnificent tattoo, all on its own. Or, rather, formed by Ursus himself. It was magic, a definite sign from Ursus directing them to make this perilous, long journey. Instructing the Clan to go back to this most ancient home of their ancestors, commanding them to live again in this "Land of the Sun'.

Etra felt a shiver of dread creep up her back, giving her instant goose flesh. She had never before heard of Ursus giving such precise instructions, to anyone-but he had chosen this Clan. It was a scary, but somehow comforting thought.

**********

By mid afternoon, they had found the place. It was a perfect place to camp along a wide flat grassy piece of nearly level ground that reached out to the river. There was a stand of good thick trunk pines, firs, and conifers that grew almost down to the river just to the north of them. The trees were not too tall, but there were a lot of them and they varied in size, diameter, and age.

They pitched the tent facing the south, and set up a large ring of river rocks and dug down into the soft dirt to make a shallow fire pit. Inca and Aba gathered enough firewood to get the fire going while Troog and Draag started a pile of dead wood they found from the bottom of the tree line. Borg dragged two driftwood logs to the fire for seating from the river.

Rug and Mog-ur walked through the trees with Crag and Brug following. The pines in the center of the thicket rose up well over the heads of the Clan men before the first branches began. The trees here grew thick and straight, and close together and the shadows were dark and cool.

'Let's start with these three,' Rug signed, pointing out three trees with trunks about as big around as his meaty thigh. These trees were about as tall as three of the Clan men put together, and their branches began reaching out a little way over the tops of their heads.

'Yes, we will start here.' Crag signed, then looked down at Brug who stepped forward and pulled a finely made flint axe tethered to a short femur bone from his wide belt. Brug handed the exceptionally made tool up to Crag who took it with a nod. Brug then knelt at the base of the tree and cleared away the small twigs and pine needles with his hands, exposing the deep brown dirt.

Mog-ur walked out of the thicket, and back over to the camp site feeling quite satisfied for the moment. The stand of mixed trees contained all the necessary materials to construct the raft they needed, it was now just a matter of harvesting the trees and building it.

Crag looked over the small axe with an appreciative eye, it was a finely crafted tool. Bran-nag, the tall man of the Others from the Aurochs Camp had made it for them. Crag had a good eye for well made tools, and this was the finest example of an axe with a handle that he had ever seen. He knew he had to be careful with the fragile flint head, and he closed his eyes and grasped the amulet that hung around his wide neck, sending out a silent plea to his totem for good fortune.

Brug stood up and stepped back watching Crag concentrating and held his own amulet, imitating the Clan hunt leader. Rug did the same, then squatted down to watch Crag begin.

Crag reached out and felt around the base of the tree, and took a deep breath. He grasped the axe with both hands and started chopping, lightly at first. The bark chipped away in small pieces exposing the yellowish white wood beneath. Crag worked his way all the way around the trunk, clearing the bark away in a wide stripe the width of his hand. Wood chips and bark littered the ground.

Draag, Troog, and Borg worked their way into the center of the thicket. They were surprised to see Brug chopping away at the base of the pine with Crag standing back watching. Rug was busy chopping away the branches of the first felled tree with a small hand held axe. The young boy took his time, and handled the axe with great care and patience. Chips flew. Crag looked up at the men, and nodded at their looks of surprise and satisfaction. Brug was growing up before their eyes, and it gave them all something to be proud of.

**********

Rug and Crag pulled one of the longest logs from the edge of the pile, it was as long as both men were tall and heavy. They dragged it out into the grass and on down close to the edge of the water. Draag and Borg followed them with a log that was similar in size, but a little bit longer. They laid it to rest beside the first log, and all four men paused to rest for a moment and plan their next move. Draag and Rug pulled the second log into a parallel position, a body length and a half away from the first log. Crag stepped off the distance between them, first at one end, and then at the other. Rug pulled the log a little further to his left, Crag nodded and they walked back over to the others. The four men observed the placement of the two logs, their foreheads wrinkled in thought.

Etra approached them with Mog-ur walking beside her, she carried a bundle of thick braided leather rope, a gift from Rymar of the Lion Camp. Rug looked up at them, and took the rope from her and dropped it to the ground between the logs. It had taken almost three entire days to cut and trim up the tree trunks and make the pile, he hoped there would be enough there to build the entire raft.

The next two logs brought down were set across the first two logs and spaced out in such a way that there was a length of log that stretched out past the first two a little wider than a man. Borg and Crag went to work tying the logs together where they overlapped with short sections of the braided leather rope. Two pieces of rope were used independently at each joint for safety and security. Finished, the appearance of the first four logs resembled a large rectangle with two longer ends on opposite sides.

The next logs were brought down and placed between the shorter cross members, and meticulously tied to the longer logs, one at a time. They were then tied to the logs beside them, tightly. When these were finished, the next two were brought down and the process began again.

Mog-ur watched the progress on the raft for a while, then walked back up to the camp. The women had a last meal on the fire. This would be the second consecutive meal that they had used only their traveling stores to prepare. Brug had been busy helping the men ever since they had chopped down the first tree. Mog-ur already missed the taste of fresh meat, he had gotten accustomed to the daily supply that Brug had provided for the Clan. He thought briefly about asking the boy to go out and hunt, but knew that with all the activity that had taken place around the camp that it would be a long shot for him to have any success.

Yesterday, Etra had tickled up three large trout out of the river, but it had made only one meal, and the portions of the fish didn't really go very far. The appetites of the entire Clan were hearty, the men were doing so much physical labor, and every woman of this Clan was in the early stages of pregnancy. He looked up at the sun, it was falling slowly to the horizon, this long day was finally winding down.

By the time the raft was finished this evening, they would all need a good nights rest, it would be best to allow all the Clan to continue on at the tasks at hand. The raft looked good and strong, and was progressing rapidly. Mog-ur was content, this Clan was full of hard working men and women, just as it should be.

Tomorrow, they would cross the river.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

_**The Lion Camp**_

Talut and Brenan pulled the long, thin pole through the end of the loop of the heavy leather at the end of the long, streamlined raft. Frebec and Druwez were on each side of the outside frame member, waiting for the two men to position the pole correctly. With a sudden jerk, Talut pulled the pole into a chiseled notch on the forward most log in the center. Brenan pushed against the pole on the left side with both hands and leaned on it with his hip, pressing it hard and flexing the pole into the desired bowed shape, to help hold it stable. Frebec pulled on the leather loop from the back side of the log, pulling the pole tighter against the log while Druwez did the same from the other side. Barzec stood behind Frebec and quickly drove a wooden peg that Tornec held in place into the bored hole with the blunted side of a large flint head axe. The peg trapped the leather loop securely inside the bored hole and pulled it tighter around the end of the pole. They all hustled over to the other side where Druwez was beginning to struggle to hold tension on the loop that he held with both hands, leaning back against it with his entire body weight.

"Don't hit his hand with that axe, Barzec!" A familiar voice called out from a short distance away to the north, upriver.

Talut flinched and almost let go of the bent pole he was holding tight when he heard the voice, he turned to look up the river bank and a huge grin spread over his bearded, sweaty face. His green eyes started to tear up, blurring his vision as he saw the tall, wide shouldered man approaching. He was muscular, heavily burdened with a huge back pack, and the sun shimmered through his bright red hair. The stocky brute of a man walked directly at him. He walked with the swagger that only a confident, experienced young adult could have. Could it possibly be, Talut wondered, hoping it to be true.

"I've got it," Barzec called out, having driven the peg the rest of the way into the hole and securing the flexible pole firmly into place.

"Talut, you big bear!" The young man dropped his heavy back pack with the short spears sticking up out of the top of it carefully to the ground. He tossed the long throwing spear to the ground at his side and ran to Talut who was just straightening up to his full height.

"Danug!" The name almost caught in the big man's throat, and he opened his arms wide to grasp the young man in a huge, twirling bear hug. They held each other hard, tears of joy wetting them both as Talut finally stopped spinning the two of them around and lowered Danug a very short distance back to the ground. Talut looked at Danug, and realized with a great sense of pride that his strapping young son was looking at him at eye level. This boy has grown, he thought, and he carries himself like a man.

Brenan looked up at Danug, amazed at how filled out he looked. The last time he had seen Danug had been at the summer meeting that the strangers Ayla and Jondalar had been to with the Lion Camp. Danug had grown into his large frame rather quickly, adding muscle weight and overall bulk, he was not as wide or as thick as Talut yet, but he wasn't all that far behind him either. Brenan got up and walked over to the pair of red haired giants, rubbing elbows with the rest of the men of the Lion Camp who crowded around them.

Danug was swamped, it took a while for him to catch his breath. He had been away on his journey, gone for almost two years. It was not every day that a favorite Mamutoi son returned home from a long journey, and the men of his camp smothered him with affection. Danug was as happy to be back home as these men were glad to see him. There was so much to tell and to catch up on, but all he really wanted to do right now was to go on up to the lodge to see his mother.

The raft was forgotten for now, someone would have to come back down later to gather up the tools and tidy up the area. The group of jovial men all walked back up the grassy rise and onto the well worn trail that led to the Lion Camp lodge together. Danug enjoyed the attention, other than the day and a half he had just spent at the Aurochs Camp, he had been alone for quite a while. He was really, truly glad to be home.

Talut carried Danug's heavy back pack with one hand almost effortlessly, with his other arm around the shoulders of the first son of his hearth. Barzec had picked up his spear, and looked it over as he walked. Wymez is going to get a kick out of this spear point, he thought as he studied the shiny black tip. It was slick to the touch, and when he held it up to the sun he could almost see completely through it. I don't know what this stone is, he surmised, but it isn't like any flint I've ever seen before.

At the base of the rise, Danug dropped to the back of the line of men that was two and three wide. He wanted to try and surprise his mother, and kept out of sight behind them as best he could. Talut and Brenan led them over to the large outdoor fire that was burning tall and fierce with an abundance of fresh fuel. Latie and Jaycie used push poles to settle the new limbs in the fire. Nezzie and Tulie were setting up a tripod of wooden poles at the edge of the fire over a small indention in the ground lined with rocks. Tulie held the small diameter poles together at the bottom while Nezzie tied the braided cord around where they intersected in the center.

"Nezzie, when will the evening meal be ready? I'm starving!" Talut asked, trying hard to suppress the grin that threatened.

"Oh, Talut. We haven't even put the water on to heat," her voice was a little exasperated, and she looked up at him, her face was streaked with sweat and a long, loose tendril of greying hair stuck to the side of her face. "Can't you find something to nibble on while we cook?"

Nezzie finished tying the knot, and sat back on her knees. Tulie let go of the sticks, then checked them out to make sure they stayed together correctly, they did.

"I know what I'd like to nibble on, come to my hearth, you feisty lioness." The look of mischief in Talut's eyes sparkled at her, and she stood up slowly and turned to face her mate directly. Nezzie couldn't help but to smile up at him, after all these years he still somehow managed to arouse her.

"Oh, Talut." Nezzie said, smiling broadly at her huge grinning mate standing so tall and handsome before her soft, old eyes. She took a few steps toward him.

Nezzie stopped in mid stride as Barzec and Frebec stepped away from each other to the left of Talut, directly in front of her. Danug was suddenly facing her, he actually stood right there in front of her, it really was her long lost son. Nezzie gasped, frozen in place for the briefest of moments then blinked back her tears and reached up to cross her hands over her heart. She hesitated briefly, then rushed forward and grabbed him in a smothering hug, planting kisses on each cheek, her tears flowing freely. The features of Danug's face glistened through her tears, but to her, he had never looked so good.

**********

"...I did actually find a cave that was mostly destroyed by an earthquake, but there was no way to be sure if it was the cave that Ayla had described. I did see signs of what could have been a burial cairn inside, and there were a few tools that looked like Clan tools scattered about. The cave had been ravaged by animals, hyena and badger signs were everywhere. There was no evidence that any Clan was any where in the near vicinity though, so after a few more days of searching, I finally gave up and moved on." Danug said. He sat between Nezzie and Latie in the back of the Mammoth Hearth on a pile of folded furs.

The entire Lion Camp sat spread out in a wide semi circle two to three people deep in front of them. Latie held his hand making it a little hard for Danug to talk, he normally used a lot of hand gestures when he spoke, especially when he told a story. Nezzie had her arm around his waist, she wasn't about to let her big strapping son get very far from her right now, not after all this time. Druwez sat next to Brenan who had the infant Bralut in his lap, Druwez was absolutely mesmerized by his cousin and his magnificent exploits. He could barely sit still and he hung on Danug's every word, and couldn't wait to hear more.

"I wandered down to the sea, and explored the area around there for a while, but there was no sign of any permanent dwellings of any kind. I decided to go north through a deep, wooded valley that had a nice, fat creek that wandered through the flats at the bottom. The land looked bountiful there, so I figured maybe the Clan would have come this way as well. A full moon or so later, I did meet up with a small band of Clan hunters when I cut back to the northeast around the base of a line of some pretty tall, rocky hills. It wasn't the most pleasant experience of my journey, they didn't exactly welcome me with open arms." Danug chuckled as the memories played out in his head, several of the Mamutoi laughed softly with him. Tornec in particularly remembered his own first contact with a group of men of the Clan, it had been a rather frightening experience to him also.

"I think they might have done me in right then and there, except for one man of the Clan that walked with a bit of a limp. He was their second in command behind the hunt leader. He told me later that he had been healed by the tall blond medicine woman of Brun's Clan at a summer meeting when he had been badly injured by a cave bear. Judging by the looks of the jagged, but well healed scars on his leg, I didn't doubt his story at all.

"Let me tell you, they really put a scare into me. There is not much that will intimidate you more than eight men of the Clan with fire hardened spears pointed at you! They were extremely protective of the six women that were with them, though I didn't even see them at first." Danug shook his head and paused to gather his thoughts before he went on with a slight grin.

"They actually treated me pretty well after the man with the limp, Grud, spoke up for me. I spent a few days with them while they waited for a small herd of aurochs that was grazing and moving in their direction from around the base of the jagged hill. The Clan had established a good position in which to ambush the herd near a rocky drop off where the grassy valley narrowed considerably.

"They didn't know where Brun's home cave was, in fact no one had seen or heard from them since a little after that summer meeting. They didn't show up at the next summer meeting. It was assumed that they had attended a different Clan gathering farther to the west that was closer to their new home, wherever that was.

"From there I left them to their hunt and traveled back to the north, but that was the last living Clan I saw on my entire journey. I wintered with a Sungea camp near the base of a low mountain range that looked out over a wide, slow moving river. They knew nothing of any little girl or family that had been lost some time ago, or any Clans nearby for that matter. They said that there had been a couple of Clan groups that had lived and hunted on the far side of the river to the north of them some years before. None of the Sungea, or even their sister camp farther to the east had seen any sign of them for the last couple of years.

"I did get some very disturbing news from them. Their chief runner had just returned from a camp farther to the northwest, and told some tales that were awfully hard to believe. From him I learned that some of the northern camps of the Mamutoi had been expanding and moving to the southeast gradually. One camp in particular had even threatened one of the northern most Sungea camps, urging them to give up their home lands and move out of the area. To leave their own lands and their home cave behind. With the threatening nature of the confrontation, the Sungea Camp acquiesced grudgingly, it was a small camp that had been ravaged by sickness the winter before. There were only six adult men left in the whole camp, and two of them were old. They were told not to return-ever."

Gasps of surprise and disgust broke out from the listeners, but Talut seemed to almost accept this news as a matter of fact. Tulie watched his face as he clenched his jaw tightly, his eyes blazing with anger. Frebec and Barzec exchanged a knowing look, Barzec's anger was apparent. Danug waited for the low rumble of voices to subside a bit before continuing his story.

"At the very first sign of spring, I left the Sungea and went northeast. I still held out hope of finding Brun's Clan, but I knew that the odds were growing more and more against me finding out anything useful. I was just too far away from the general area that Ayla had described, and no real idea where to search next. I could only guess which way they could have gone, and I kind of wandered around without any real set direction for a while, hoping to stumble across any signs of them at all.

"I followed a small river for a long, long time. It diminished gradually to the point of being nothing more than a small feeder creek as the ground grew more mountainous and rocky. There sure is a lot of Mut's earth that has no one in it, I went almost two full moon cycles before I found any trace of people at all.

"A strong thunderstorm blew in suddenly without warning and forced me to climb a tall rocky ridge of the eastern slope of a pretty steep wooded hill. The wind was blowing hard and the rain blew straight into my face as I trudged up the rise, slipping and sliding in the mud and the gravel. Two thirds of the way up, I saw a sheer rock out crop and headed as straight for it as the slope would allow me to go. You can imagine my surprise when I found a small opening to a large cave in the rock. It was shelter though, and I stepped inside before I thought twice about it just to get out of the storm.

"The place was a shambles, but it was obvious that it had been lived in recently. It was a Clan cave, it had to be. I knew it by the broken, charred spear tips sticking out of the central fire pit. I stayed there a few days before the storm finally blew on through. I learned a lot about the Clan there, they way they must have lived. Things were so simple and sparse, but the two furs that were still mostly intact had that same, soft feel that Ayla's furs had. They had an abundance of provisions stored under rock caches all along the back walls of the cave, dried food and furs of all kinds. Crude, but well made bowls and cups were scattered about, but what I found in a dark recess of the cave really got my attention.

"I almost didn't see it, but there was a small opening in the far back rock wall that I had to almost crawl to get through. Inside was a small dome top room with another fire pit. A magnificent round rock formation came down from the ceiling, that dripped water very slowly into a small pool in a shallow recess in the stone floor. Surrounding the fire pit was a circle of animal skulls, an aurochs, a bison, a megaceros, and so on. At the most favored position, there was a skull of a huge bear, probably a cave bear judging by the size of it. It must have been a room used by their Mog-ur, the spiritual room of the Clan where the men held their ceremonies. I don't think anything had been disturbed here, whoever trashed the cave must not have found it.

"I learned how they must have died as well. There were two broken spear tips of flint that I found on the smooth dirt floor. It must have been a raiding party, the spear tips looked like they were Mamutoi."

Danug dropped his eyes and took a deep breath, coming again to grips of this horrific memory. He wondered just how much of the story of his journey he should reveal to the entire camp. Some of it got bad, real bad.

He looked up and yawned loudly, the children that were still awake all laughed at him and a few of the adults joined him and yawned themselves. Danug hoped they would take the hint and break up the story telling for the night. As much as he had thought about it on his way home, he still wasn't too sure what all he would tell them about certain aspects of his journey. He forced another yawn for emphasis.

Talut stood up and announced that he was tired and that we could hear more about Danug's adventures tomorrow. Hugs were exchanged all around, and Danug said that he would stay in the Mammoth Hearth for now, to Nezzie's slight disappointment. His mother held him close for a long, tender moment before kissing his cheek and going back to her own hearth with Talut trailing behind her carrying Rugie cradled in his massive arms.

"Tomorrow I want to know more about this stone." Wymez said with a smile, handing Danug's spear to him butt first, Danug grinned back. The dark tip glistened in the firelight as Wymez turned and walked away.

The crowd dispersed slowly, but eventually Danug was left alone with Brenan, Bralut, and Latie in the large, spacious hearth.

Bralut had been asleep in Brenan's arms for quite a while, and Danug watched when Brenan and Latie put him down into the basket full of sleeping furs beside their bed platform. Of all the things he had learned since he had been home, the most surprising had been that his younger sibling was mated, the new Mamut of the Lion Camp, and now a mother. She has sure grown up, he thought as he watched the attractive young woman look down at her son while Brenan settled him in the furs.

Danug was as proud of Latie as Talut and Nezzie were, though in a slightly different way. They had always been close, and he looked forward to talking to her at length, alone. Danug wanted to know more about all the things that she had been through, but he needed to tell her some things he had been through as well. Now that she was Mamut, he knew that it was Latie, and only Latie that he needed to tell his whole story to. She could decide how much anyone else needed to know, and who in particular.

Latie made a small basket of alfalfa and raspberry leaf tea, and the three of them sat down around the fire. Brenan sipped his tea, it was hot and pleasant tasting. Danug yawned again, without forcing it this time, and smiled at them both.

"It sure is good to be home," Danug began. "But it is really strange to be in this hearth without Old Mamut being here."

"Yes it is, I have a hard time remembering that this hearth is mine now some times." Latie said, a sad smile on her lips. "It was really hard at first, but then we were gone for so long that it actually felt like home here when we finally got back. Especially after Bralut was born, I mean this is the only hearth he knows as his home. I do still think about Mamut, though. I so wish that he was still with us. I guess that Branag told you what all happened with the renegades."

"Yes, he filled me in, what an incredible, disgusting story. It's hard to believe that our own people could do such terrible things. Of all the things that Branag told me of the events that took place while I was gone though, I think that the one thing that I had the hardest time accepting was that Old Mamut was really gone." Danug said. "I have to admit that I cried like a baby."

"You should have seen Latie, you would have been so proud." Brenan began. "The first official act she had to perform as Mamut of the Lion Camp was to preside over Old Mamut's funeral. She did so well, she spoke the sacred words and signed them in the language of the Clan, just like Ayla did at the Wolf Camp for Rydag. There wasn't a dry eye in the whole camp."

Danug nodded, trying to picture the scene in his mind and finding it somehow quite comforting. Rydag's funeral was as fresh in his mind as if it had happened yesterday, it probably always would be. He felt tears well up as he thought about it all.

"That was hard all right, but Mamut had prepared me well in the ways and procedures of the ceremony and all." Latie dropped her head, then took a sip from her cup before looking back up.

"Well, I was definitely caught by surprise with the news that you and Brenan here were mated." Danug said, smiling and poking Brenan's thigh with his outstretched bare toe. "I didn't know that you two even knew each other. How did all this happen?"

Latie laughed softly, how did it all happen, she asked herself just how to tell Danug this story. It was a story that had changed her life, and of all people, she would relish telling it all to her sibling more than any other person in the world.

"I'm tired, I think I'll let my dear mate tell this fabulous, romantic tale." Brenan said, standing up and stretching. His lower back popped loudly in two places, and he grinned down at them. "I'm going to sleep, good to have you home, Danug." Brenan grinned at what he had just said, welcoming Danug home. Nice irony, he thought as he leaned down to kiss the top of Latie's head, this was Danug's home long before it was mine. Brenan smiled at the thought as he walked over to the sleeping platform that he shared with Latie, this is my home now though, he mused.

Latie and Danug watched Brenan walk to the sleeping platform and pull the hide curtains mostly closed. She looked up at her sibling, somehow knowing that he had something on his mind that he needed to tell her, and only her. Laties curiosity was peaked.

Danug reached out and dipped another cup of tea, then sat back and smiled at Latie. She was so much a woman now, he thought as he looked at her, so grown up and pretty. Whatever happened to that shy, wide eyed little girl that used to follow me around, he wondered.

"So tell me about Brenan, I always thought that he would be the Mamut of the Lynx Camp one day. It wouldn't have surprised me if he had become a healer though, with his mother being so well renowned and all. He was still in training with his Mamut the last I remember. How did he manage to steal your heart, my dear sibling?"

Latie laughed at his remarks, she had sure missed Danug and all his humor. As children, he could make her laugh until her sides hurt, and often did.

"Well, you're right. He was still training with his Mamut at the summer meeting at the Wolf Camp. I think the way he told it...

**********

"...it was shortly after that third search we made with Mamut that I knew, I knew he was the only man for me. Danug, it was all so strange. It was almost like I got a glimpse into his soul, like I could feel what he felt, though it was just for a little bit. I knew that our future was to be together but he didn't, not then anyway, what a strange feeling it all was. At that time, Brenan was still planning to leave and to go on with this search that he was on. Can you believe that anyone would travel alone in the winter just to seek knowledge? I think that by itself impressed Old Mamut more than anything else, and he was more than willing to teach Brenan all that he could hold. The two of them met together for days on end, from sun up to sun down most of the time.

"Danug, I don't know how to describe the feeling of how our spirits touched while we searched with Mamut. I could 'see' things inside him, and the more I saw the more I liked about him, and I just knew that he was the one for me. It's kind of hard to explain, I guess."

Danug smiled, he couldn't possibly understand what she had felt, but he could see what it meant to her in her sparkling, expressive eyes. He was a physical man, the ways of the spirits and the spirit world had always a mystery to him, and they probably always would be.

"Over time, Brenan started having feelings toward me as well, though I think he tried real hard to fight them. He was just so serious about this quest of his that nothing else really mattered to him at the time. Then Mamut produced the sacred root of the Clan, and everything changed..."

**********

"...and the last thing he said to me was to examine what all I had learned in that terrifying place of the spirits, and to protect the Lion Camp. Then he talked to Brenan alone, and from then on somehow Brenan was mine. Old Mamut must have told him something important, but he never told me all of it, just a few parts.

"Mamut took a nap, a nap from which he never woke up. Brenan was the one that found him, and I have never seen him so upset, before or since. It was such a hard, sad, terrible time. There was so much to do, and none of it was pleasant.

"Talut was absolutely beside himself, he wanted to bury Mamut and to leave all at the same time. It was all so hard, he was so frantic to try to save Ranec and the Wolf Camp from Chaleg and the renegades." Latie reached up to wipe the tears from her cheeks before continuing.

"It was after the ceremony for Mamut, Brenan and I stood alone at the funeral pyre when he asked me to be his mate. Danug, it was the saddest, and the happiest day of my life. I don't know if I'll ever figure it all out, but Mamut knew, he always knew."

"That old man knew more than anyone I have ever known." Danug said, wiping away a tear of his own. "He came to me privately before I even told anyone that I was going to take make a journey at the summer meeting. He told me that I had to go on and follow my own path. He wished me a safe and productive journey, and told me not to be too disappointed if I didn't find what I was seeking. I hadn't told anyone anything yet, but he knew."

Latie looked up at him, seeing the pain of Mamut's memory in his eyes.

"He even told me that I would be severely tested, and when I was pushed the hardest that I must not hesitate to defend myself or that I would perish." Danug paused, I must tell her, he decided.

"He was right, of course. Latie, I have to tell you more of my story. You will have to decide if I have to tell anyone else this part of what happened to me. I have struggled with it, and I still don't know what to do. As Mamut, now it is your decision." Danug chuckled, placing this responsibility on Latie took some of the pressure he felt off his shoulders, as unfair as it seemed to be.

Latie looked at him, and in her mind she wondered if she could make these kinds of decisions without being partial. He was her sibling after all, and it could detract from her responsibilities as Mamut of the Lion Camp. She took a deep breath and tried to listen without prejudice as he began.

"It was in the early spring after I left the Sungea camp, very early spring. It was still cold and the weather was still really erratic. I was traveling northeast like I told you, but I left something out of the story that I told the rest. When I left that Clan cave I wandered back down to the bottom of the valley, and two days later I ran into what I thought was a long range hunting party from the Spotted Deer Camp. Gormen led the hunting party, and he welcomed me with open arms. That alone should have tipped me off that something wasn't quite right. The power struggles that he and Darlen had with Talut and Vincavec on the Council of Brothers was legendary.

"There was something strange about the way he looked at me, something in his eyes. I have seen it before, that look I mean, but only in a gravely wounded animal. It looked like I was looking into the very face of madness that can only be brought on by intense pain. It was just like an animal that was dying. My gut feeling was to get out of there right then, and now I really wish that I had.

"The long and the short of it, is when I woke up the next morning in one of the small traveling tents, all my weapons were gone. They actually jumped on me and tied my hands behind my back and told me that the Mamutoi were changing, and that the dominance of the southern camps was over. They said that the northern camps would be taking over and that anyone that stood in their way would be destroyed. Destroyed, who ever talked like that? Gormen said he needed some time to figure out what to do with me. I guess I presented them with some kind of problem, maybe even a threat to their plans.

"I have never been so scared, I knew these people, but they were all somehow different then. The way they looked and acted, it was all so strange." Danug looked up at Latie, and took a deep breath before going on.

"Late that same night, I managed to get my hands free. I waited until everyone else was asleep, then tried to steal away in the dark of night. I made it out of the immediate camp, but came up on Braman on guard duty walking the perimeter. His presence caught me completely by surprise, but I was able to tackle him before he was able to call out." Danug paused again, swallowing hard.

"He was a big, strong man and we fought rolling around on the ground, then he somehow managed to pull his knife from his belt. I panicked, and fought even harder. During the struggle, I heard a loud pop. I broke his neck, Latie, I killed Braman." The words caught in his throat, and Latie reached over and took him in her arms. She could feel his body shuddering with each labored breath that he took. His voice was cracked and ragged as he continued in a course sounding whisper.

"I took his two spears, and ran off into the night as fast as I could go. All I had with me was my belt and his two spears. It is fortunate that my fire making materials were in a pouch tied to my belt." Danug reached up and wiped the tears off his face with both hands, then Latie pulled him closer. Of all people, she knew what it felt like to take a human life, even if it was in self defense. She shuddered at the very thought.

Latie thought about Danug's story for the longest time. Something about it was bothering her, but she couldn't quite figure out what it was. The story itself was disturbing enough, but it was something more. Oh Mut, it all came to her in a rush, Gormen was out raiding even before the summer meeting, and Darlen knew it. He had probably even encouraged and planned it. Everything he said and done at the meeting was a lie! He was covering up the fact that the northern camps had already set out on their evil plan, their plan to take over all the lands of the Mamutoi. They were in on it all along with the renegades, now what will they do?

I have to talk to Talut and Tulie, they must know this, she thought to herself. There is no choice in the matter, we could all very well still be in grave danger. If Danug was willing, she would be there to help him tell the tale, it was obvious that he doesn't want everyone else to know about this. Latie didn't blame him, not at all.

"Danug, I think it is important that we tell Talut and Tulie all this. There may be more to it than we know." Latie looked up at his tear streaked face.

"I know, I knew I would have to tell them eventually. I just don't really want to, that's all. If you think it's really that important, I'll tell them in the morning." Danug said with a sad note of resignation in his voice.

"I'll help you, we can talk to them together." Latie put her hand on top of his and gave it a gentle squeeze. He smiled at her and she thought again just how good it was to have him back. Latie dipped the last of the tea, and they sipped it in silence watching the beauty of the flickering yellow flames.

Latie yawned, and reached up with her free hand to cover her mouth. Why she found herself a little embarrassed to have yawned in front of Danug was a bit of a mystery to her, after all they had grown up together. Danug did look so much older and mature, though, and he had been gone a long time. It will just take me a little time to get used to him being around again, she thought.

Danug just smiled at her, she had really grown up while he had been gone. Such a beautiful young woman now. He noticed the strange stitching on the sleeve of her tunic, and pulled her arm closer to have a better look.

"This is odd, what kind of decoration is it? Does it mean anything in particular?"

Latie stared at the sleeve, then laughed softly.

"It means that I lived through my matrimonial seclusion." She smiled a slightly crooked smile at Danug.

"All right, tell me about this tunic." Danug demanded gently.

"Well, there was this lion..."

**********

"...and this was the tunic I wore to our seclusion and I just couldn't bear to part with it." Latie said, grinning. "It does make for some interesting designs and patterns though, doesn't it?"

Danug couldn't say that he really enjoyed the story of the massive cave lion with one green eye, but he was proud that Latie and Brenan had managed to kill him with no really serious injuries to themselves. It reminded him of another danger that he had faced in his travels.

"Latie, I met a woman on my journey." Danug began softly, looking down into the fire as he spoke. "A very special woman. When I see the way that you look at Brenan, I know you'll understand what I'm about to tell you."

Latie looked up at him, he squeezed her hand and she saw the pain in his vivid green eyes. Danug in love, the very thought of this was intriguing, she had to know more.

"I felt, I mean I feel the same way about her that you feel about Brenan..."

Latie cut him off, "but Danug, if you love her why isn't she here with you?"

Danug's eyes glistened with tears as he frowned at his sibling. "That, my dear sibling, is another long story..."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

_**The Cave Bear Camp Travelers**_

Vincavec sat at the edge of the small camp fire, behind him Matera, Jozen, and Stolie packed up their belongings. It was very late into the night, and the sky was covered with bright sparkling stars through spotted, moving clouds. He had a few minutes to himself before they would be ready to break down the tent and pack up their sleeping furs. Vincavec needed to think. They were closer to the camp than they had known, and what Jozen had seen from the crest of the hill was his worst fear realized. This was all so very wrong, he thought, yet somehow Old Mamut had foretold it all. If only I could have figured it all out sooner.

They had been traveling at a forced pace from their home camp, the Cave Bear Camp, for over half a moon cycle. Their destination was the Sturgeon Camp along the Sturgeon River. It was Matera's home camp where she was both co-leader and Mamut. With the recent demise of Old Mamut and Lomie of the Wolf Camp, she was the most senior mamut left in all the Mamutoi. Their need to make this trip had evolved before it had even begun, and the trip itself had started off a bit ominously.

A hard blowing three day storm had delayed their planned departure, and they had tried to make up the time they lost to no real avail. Traveling after such a heavy storm was difficult and the obstacles were many. The ground was slick and made for treacherous footing, and all the creeks and rivers were swollen and spilled out past their banks.

Matera needed to go home to help out with the arrangements for the upcoming summer meeting that the Sturgeon Camp was hosting for all the members of the new Southern Mamutoi. She also needed to start the process of getting a replacement chosen for the Sturgeon Camp. Matera had plans to mate with Vincavec and move on to the Cave Bear Camp with him.

The last summer meeting had turned into an absolute fiasco. There had been a terrible split between the two major factions of the Mamutoi.

It had all come to a head after Vincavec and Talut had addressed a gathering of all the leaders and mamuts who attended the meeting. They told the story of the terrible things that the renegades of the Beaver, Megaceros, and Weasel Camps had banded together and done. Led by Chaleg and his cousins, they had raided and completely destroyed the Wolf Camp, and murdered everyone there.

In a strange twist of fate, Old Mamut of the Lion Camp had somehow foreseen these horrific events, and Talut and the Lion Camp had sprung into action. Talut and Tulie had led a group from the Lion Camp and headed northeast to try and prevent the calamity that Old Mamut had seen in a vision from a spirit trip. The spirit trip was taken under the influence of the sacred root of the Clan. Old Mamut was accompanied on this spiritual journey by Latie and Brenan, and he had passed on to the spirit world shortly after their return. The Lion Camp travelers were joined by a number of others from the Aurochs camp, and traveled cross country as hard as they could go.

These travelers had eventually teamed up with the Amber and Mammoth Camps, and they all joined together to confront the renegades. A terrible ambush had ensued at the Mammoth Camp, many of the renegades were killed. The surviving renegades had been split up into two groups according to the severity of their evil deeds and banished from the lands of the Mamutoi forever. They had been sent away in shame and disgrace, threatened with death if they ever returned.

Many of the leaders and influential members of the northern camps had not believed the story as it had been laid out before them at the summer meeting, and had voiced their heated opposition and disbelief. Accusations flew, and the Mamutoi began to come apart at the seems as a single people. Sides were chosen, and a gauntlet had been thrown down. Led by Darlen of the huge northern Bison Camp and his sibling and co-leader Darcie, they had managed to influence enough of the northern camps to side with them to effectively split the Mamutoi into two factions of unequal size. The northern camps made up a clear majority in size and numbers.

The bulk of the Mamutoi from the northern camps had left the meeting prematurely in a terrible huff, animosity permeating the split between the two groups. The end results of the division were not yet completely known, and probably wouldn't be totally understood for quite some time to come. The southern camps had proclaimed themselves to be a separate people, to be known henceforth as the Southern Mamutoi. The northern camps had not acknowledged them as a separate people prior to leaving, and it was a terribly tense parting of the ways.

It had all seemed like the right thing to do at the time, really the only thing. Now, however, Vincavec had serious doubts about it all. The rage and discontent of the northern camps had almost gotten out of control, it had been ugly, really ugly. In his mind, Vincavec worried that it wasn't over, not by a long shot.

Vincavec had been having strange and powerful dreams for a while prior to leaving the newly completed Cave Bear Camp. In his dreams, Old Mamut had been trying to warn him of something from the world of the spirits. The dreams had left him terribly confused, for he could never quite ascertain any more than a precious few fractured bits of Old Mamut's warnings. He had tried with very limited success to go into the world of the spirits and make contact with Old Mamut.

The first attempt he had made was a joint venture, he and Matera had tried with an experimental potion that she had concocted. With Matera's vast knowledge and experience with potions, plants, and herbs, it was a valiant attempt made with an untried mixture she had come up with. It had been a near fatal, gut wrenching failure. Vincavec had almost been lost forever in the misty haze of that ominous dark area between the real world and the place of the spirits. When he had eventually recovered he decided that it was neither safe nor prudent for Matera to make any further attempt with him. Matera was pregnant, and Vincavec's fear for her health, and the health of the baby she carried was acute.

The second attempt he had made was at least a partial success, though it had taken many days for him to fully grasp all he had learned. The consistent, though incomplete portion of the message he was able to decipher had been, 'danger, imminent danger'. Danger to them all. It was enough for Vincavec to try and hasten their departure from the Cave Bear Camp.

Vincavec came out of his deep meditation slowly, interrupted by Matera shaking his shoulder gently. It took him a moment, pulling himself back slowly.

"We are ready, let's go." Matera's voice was soft in the darkness.

Vincavec stood up and pulled his back pack over his shoulder and into place. He repositioned the straps, pulling them into a more comfortable resting place on his shoulders, and grasped his long throwing spear in his right hand.

Jozen kicked loose dirt onto the fire, eventually smothering it and casting them all into the darkness of the night. The moon glowed brightly above them, creating a bright halo shining through the edge of a thin cloud. To the east across the river, a lone wolf howled in the stillness of the night. The soft wolf song increased in volume as the pitch went higher and higher, Jozen felt a wave of shill bumps spread over his bare arms at the eerie sounds. He looked to Vincavec who nodded at him, then started over the brushy rise to the south leaving the river behind.

**********

Dawn was breaking in all its colorful grandeur when they finally reached the far outskirts of the Sturgeon Camp lodge at the top of a gentle hill. It was worse than they expected, far worse. The place was a complete and total shambles.

A large group of hyenas surrounded the entire camp, scattered out in twos and threes. There were too many of them to even begin to get an accurate count as most were in constant motion, moving from one place to the next. They appeared to be clustered around the tattered remains of humans. The smell of death and burned out ruins permeated the entire area.

Vultures and buzzards gathered in loose groups surrounding the camp at a discreet distance, standing on the ground with their wings stretched out to gather the rays of the coming sun. Several were perched on the east section of the lodge roof, the only part of it that looked to be at its full height. Six dholes sat together close to the river, patiently watching and waiting.

Matera looked over her home camp through hard eyes, she had no tears to shed through the intense anger that wracked her. Vincavec came up beside her and put his arm around her waist tentatively. She didn't notice him at all.

Jozen heard Stolie's soft cry of anguish beside him, and took her into his arms. He turned her face away from the terrible scene of destruction and carnage below. His anger grew to such proportions that his strong young body trembled with rage. For the second time in his young life, he felt the urge to kill his fellow man. As it had happened before, this feeling welled up inside him and threatened to take over all his emotions.

Matera was at a loss, she felt so empty inside that it was almost like she was watching it all through the flowing mists of a bad dream. Inside, she could feel her heart begin to harden, this was all just too much for her to handle any other way. Matera was a strong woman, possibly the most experienced surviving Mamut of all the Mamutoi, but this was beyond all she had ever imagined. When the first tear rolled down her cheek she didn't feel it.

Vincavec knew that there was nothing they could do here, and they needed to be on their way. They had a long way left to go. His eyes caught a movement to the west, four huge female cave lions came out of the brush, trotting toward the camp from the far southern side. Three more younger lions followed them, one of them was an adolescent male with the scraggly beginnings of a mane. This place was bad dangerous, and it only looked to get worse with time.

"Matera, we need to go." His voice was soft, but had an edge of urgency to it. "There is nothing more we can do here."

She heard him as if through a fog, her mind still reeled with the realization that her home and all her camp mates were gone. Her only living relative, her sibling, Morgan was no more. This realization shook her to the bone. Deep inside, Matera started to blame herself for not fully understanding the concept of evil. She had heard the story of the renegades, but nothing really prepared her for seeing it up close like this. This was her home camp, her own people, now it was personal.

Evil was a concept that Matera had never had to confront directly, it was almost a foreign concept to her. Now, it was spread out right here in front of her. The reality of it all hit her hard, harder than she ever could have imagined. Matera finally began to understand the anguish that she had seen in Talut and Vincavec's faces when they had described the fate they handed the renegades, now she actually began to feel what they had felt. This shook her all over again, and she shuddered involuntarily.

Matera felt Vincavec pull her closer to him, and looked into his pained eyes, another tear fell. She was as tall as her promised, and wrapped her arms up around his neck and laid her head in the nape of his neck, pulling him close. She took strength from him, and allowed him to gently pull back from her only far enough to look into her eyes.

"We really need to go, we have to get to the Aurochs Camp before they do." The soft urgency of his words rang true, and Matera reached up to wipe away her tears and nodded.

"Let's go." She said in a voice loud enough for Jozen and Stolie to hear. Matera looked a last time at the remains of her old home, her heart was breaking into little pieces inside her. She turned away from the peaceful camp that had been her home, and turned to follow Vincavec.

Stolie held onto Jozen's arm and the four of them headed due west along the crest of the low hill at a fast walk, away from the approaching lions. They gave the approaching lions a wide berth and the respect they demanded by their mere presence.

Long before they reached the far edge of the brush covered hilltop, the confrontation between the lions and the hyenas began and rang out behind them. The deep voiced growls and roars were echoed by the yipping and cackling defiant answers. From the river bank, the dholes yipped and wailed.

On the down side of the slope, they came across a wide swath of trampled thigh high grass. A lot of people had come through here, recently. Vincavec and Jozen studied the width of the trail of bent grass, but could come to no conclusion on the number of the raiders. They couldn't even venture an educated guess, but there had to have been a lot of them.

The worn path headed due southwest from what they could see. Jozen nudged Vincavec, and the two of them turned back to the west and walked on with the women in tow. There was no conversation, each of them were lost in their own tortured thoughts.

**********

They reached the river again where it turned back to the south around sunset. They were all physically tired and mentally exhausted. There had been little to no conversation between them all day as they had chewed up ground at a hard forced pace. A new sense of urgency prevailed, and they had not stopped to fix even a mid day meal, preferring to chew on a little dried meat along the way. They set up the small tent and made a small fire quickly.

Stolie put together a small basket of stew with dried meat and a few small, yellow onions she gathered from the river banks. Vincavec and Jozen gathered enough dead fall to last them through the night. Matera stood overlooking the swift waters of the river in silent meditation, her face a blank, hard mask.

Matera stood alone and watched the swift river flow, her long, loose hair blowing off her shoulders in the soft breeze. The river was narrower here than where it flowed past the Sturgeon Camp, and the surface of the water swelled and rolled over what appeared to be a rocky, uneven bottom. The streak of premature grey in her hair glowed softly in the waning daylight, her eyes glistened with pent up tears.

She tried to understand the deep feelings that wracked her insides so hard that she thought that she might throw up. It was not only the loss of her loved ones, it was the total senselessness of it all. Was power over your fellow man so important, so provocative that some would kill for it? She shivered again, evil was a hard concept to understand, much less accept.

A golden eagle swooped down to the surface of the water, dipping her long talons into the water on the far side of the river with a small splash. She screeched as she pulled up and away from the water with a small trout gripped firmly in her strong claws. The fish writhed and struggled against the long winged bird to no avail. The eagle flapped her wings harder and gained just enough altitude to clear the tops of the rocks on the far side of the river, and disappeared from sight.

They were back on the move just before daylight. Stolie had taken the last watch duty, and had warmed up the leftover stew for the rest of them. None of them had slept very well, most had their sleep disturbed several times throughout the long night. The images of the devastated Sturgeon Camp played hard on their minds.

They moved quickly in the darkness, following the river bank. By late morning they had covered a lot of ground and took a break to rest and cook up a beaver that Jozen had caught just a little too far from home.

The river started to veer to the southeast around a long low bluff with scattered trees and brush. A large herd of aurochs grazed ahead of them, taking advantage of the new green grass on top of the bluff.

Jozen led them up the rise, and turned due south away from the river. The aurochs moved away from them down the bluff towards the river, and they walked through the mostly brown, calf high grass. The land was pretty level on the flats of the bluff, and the brush was scattered and easy to walk through. A single rhinoceros grazed to the southwest, heavy with calf, and they gave her a wide berth as they hurried on.

Vincavec noticed several vultures circling to the south out in front of them, and kept his eye on them as he led the group for a while. They were still a good distance away, but he knew they never circled without reason and stayed cautious as they grew closer. He picked out some light shape moving in the grass, and stopped to see if he could pick out just what was there.

Jozen stopped beside Vincavec and his younger eyes picked out the shape of a single male lion walking slowly around a dark lump on the ground. The lion hadn't noticed them as yet.

"Looks like a deer or antelope fell prey to him." Jozen said, squinting his eyes against the brightness of the sun.

"Your eyes are better than mine, do you see any females around?" Vincavec asked.

"No, it must be a rogue." Jozen answered in a whisper.

"That's a frightening thought, I guess we should go around him and try to keep out of his sight." Vincavec said. Looking around the land to the southwest. The brush was still pretty scattered, and offered little cover to hide in as they passed through.

"It's a fresh kill, he should leave us alone if we keep our distance." Jozen said, looking back to Vincavec.

"I hope so, but keep your spear thrower ready anyway." Vincavec said and pulled a small spear from the scabbard slung over his shoulder, followed by the strange looking spear thrower and kept them both in his left hand. He got a better grip on his long throwing spear in his other hand, then followed Jozen to the southwest through the grass.

They moved quickly and quietly through the grass, putting every bush and tree to their right side as they tried to stay out of sight of the lion who had finally settled over his kill. The vultures lit on the ground well out of reach of the lion, and began their patient wait.

By late afternoon the lion was long behind them, and they were able to cut back due south again. Without the lion to hinder their progress, they picked up their pace again. The scattered trees and brush were mostly behind them now, and the vastness of the grass covered plains abounded. Herds of grazing animals were all around them now at a distance, feeding on last seasons dead grass and the fresh green shoots of new grass. Bison, aurochs, megaceros, horses, red deer, black tailed deer, onager, saiga antelope, and more. A few rhinoceros kept mostly to themselves, and a single woolly mammoth was silhouetted on the far western horizon.

The predators were in attendance as well, though they were much harder to see in the tall grass. Wolves, dholes, hyenas, cave lions, lynx, and a large spotted cat had all been observed from a distance. Stolie had even pointed out a huge saber toothed tiger walking alone and commanding incredible respect as he did.

Of all the predators, this one instilled more fear and loathing than any of the others except possibly a rogue cave lion. A loner by nature, this big cat had no specific habitat. It was as much at home on the grassy plains as it was in the deep forests. This tiger had no specific prey, it would just as soon eat a lion as it would a deer or a bear-or a human. They grew to massive proportions, adults often got as tall as the biggest of the cave lions, but longer. Intensely restless, they hunted no particular area and wandered between meals at random, far and wide. The saber toothed tiger had no natural enemies, the earth was their sole domain, all of it.

Clouds began to roll in from the northeast and the wind cooled and picked up in its gusting strength throughout the afternoon. It looked like another spring storm was gathering momentum.

Vincavec stopped and looked out over the grassy steppes, there was no protection in sight to be had from the coming storm. The sun was falling fast and a decision needed to be made as to what to do.

Jozen stepped up beside him, and pointed off to the southeast. A small herd of mostly female aurochs were gathering around each other closely. This was a sure sign that rain was on the way, and both men knew it.

"I don't guess there is any good reason to pitch the tent tonight, is there?" Jozen asked softly, watching the dark clouds approaching with gathering speed.

"No, it will get wet enough in your back pack. Let's stop for a bite to eat and move on, we might as well travel through the night." Vincavec answered.

"Ladies," Jozen turned to address Matera and Stolie behind him. "Let's rest and fix something to eat. With the coming rain we'll get no sleep tonight."

A soft, far away roll of thunder from the northeast reached them. The sky was dark with rain, and the wind gusted with more strength, the colder air soothing-for now. A bolt of lightning from high within the tall thunder heads streaked out of the cover of the clouds and across the sky, it was a long moment later before they heard its thunder.

**********

The first raindrops fell just after darkness set in. Starting gradually, the raindrops got bigger and in greater abundance blowing in from the northeast at an angle as the winds increased. The sky was black now, the cloud cover suppressing even the brightness of the nearly full moon. They trudged on through the slick, dark grass.

The night sounds were muted by the soft drone of the rain, and this kept them all on edge as they marched on through the grass. The night was so dark that visibility was almost nil, it was hard to see just three steps out before them

The storm steadily got worse, the wind gusts increased. Lightning lit up the dark sky in bright flashes and the thunder boomed out strongly.

The travelers stuck close together and trudged on through the slick steppes. Dead grass started sticking to the heavy mud on their foot covers making their feet heavy and cumbersome.

Vincavec heard a strange sound just before the first hail stone hit him in the back of the head, the sound was a wave of soft thudding coming rapidly toward them through the grass. The hail pelted them, small ice stones at first, then growing bigger.

Matera screamed out when a good size piece of hail hit her in the forehead, and Stolie dropped to her knees and covered her head with her arms against the assault. Jozen dropped the back pack off his shoulders and quickly fumbled with the straps holding the top of it closed. The wet leather was hard to deal with, and it took him a little bit to get them loose. He reached in and pulled out the folded tent and shook it out. Vincavec grabbed one end of the tent and together the two men held it up over their heads and knelt down on each side of the women, trying to protect them from the hail.

The hail storm didn't last very long, but by the time it passed both men were pretty well bruised up from the larger hail stones. Their hands and forearms took a real beating. The temperature dropped considerably, and all four of them were shivering, soaked to the bone.

The rain continued hard at first then tapering off some, and they decided to move on. Jozen rigged the small tent, tying the ends of it to long throwing spears that he and Vincavec held up over them. It worked pretty well to keep the rain off them, and their clothes started to dry very slowly from their body heat. It was slow going, but they pushed on.

**********

By the first signs of dawn the rain had slacked off to a constant drizzle, but the wind still blew strongly in gusts. The grass around them was tall and thick, obscuring their long range vision. Fog rose off the wet ground in low streaks of misty clouds, colored softly by the rising sun.

Jozen froze at a soft whinny from off to their left, the sound was close. Very close. They all strained to see the source of the sounds, but couldn't locate it in the foggy soft light of the dawn. Just as they started to move on, a stallion screamed out and in a matter of moments they found themselves in the middle of a stampede of a small herd of horses.

Vincavec dropped the spear with the tent tied to it and pulled Matera against his back with one arm. Stolie screamed as the first of the horses thundered past them, so close they could have almost reached out and touched the dark colored stallion. Jozen pulled the spear up so that the tent flapped in the gusting wind, trying to scare the horses away from them.

Vincavec screamed out loudly and waved his arms at a large mare that bore down on him, causing her to veer away from him at the last second. Two yearlings followed behind her closely, splitting around Vincavec with wild, scared eyes.

The sudden roar of a big cat came from the direction the horses had come from as the last three horses fled past them. Vincavec and Jozen quickly pulled their spear throwers out from their back packs and slapped spears into place, their eyes searching for the cat.

The cat roared again, close enough to bring fresh chills to all four of them. The sound was loud enough to be right there in front of them, but they still could not see any sign of him at all in the tall grass.

Jozen whispered to Vincavec from behind him. "Let's get on out of here, don't you think?"

Vincavec didn't answer him, he just turned and motioned for Stolie and Matera to pick up the tent, the look in his eyes gave both women a sense of urgency. Stolie picked up the spear and started to roll the tied hide around it by twisting the spear shaft in her hands. Matera picked up the other spear and held it up near where Stolie wrapped the hide around the shaft, giving her the slack necessary to make it go quicker. When the spears came together, Stolie put one end on her shoulder and Matera did the same with the other end.

Jozen led them away from the deep pitched grunts of the cat, due south. Stolie and Matera followed closely behind him, but Vincavec gave them a little head start before bringing up the rear.

Vincavec looked back several times as they walked away in a hurry. When they were a few dozen steps away from where they had begun, Vincavec was surprised to see the cat stand up and look right at him. Their eyes locked, the golden colored cat had amber eyes. It was a saber tooth tiger, the biggest one he had ever seen, its entire face covered with the blood of the kill, but his eyes shown bright and clear. Vincavec shivered and looked away first, and then walked backwards for a while until the cat dropped back out of sight in the tall grass. This had to be the same cat they had seen days before, didn't it, he wondered to himself. Surely there aren't many of them around, he had never heard of such a thing. It worried him more than he would have admitted to any of his fellow travelers.

They walked until the sun was well past the top of the sky, then decided to stop and make camp when they came upon a wide patch of short, thick brush. The drizzle had almost stopped now, but the ground was wet and muddy everywhere. Jozen and Vincavec cut a pile of twigs from the brush and gathered enough loose stones to make a small fire pit.

Stolie and Matera set up the wet tent and cut enough grass to line the ground and soak up most of the surface moisture. They set up a small ring of stones inside the tent, knowing that the hide would dry quicker if they lit a fire inside the tent for a while. The smoke would also help to treat and keep the leather soft and more pliable. Thick hides like the one used for the tent had a bad tendency to get stiff when wet thoroughly if not dried and treated correctly. Smoke worked wonders on a wet skin.

There was nothing easy about setting up even a short term camp in this kind of wet weather, but they had been walking for the equivalent of almost two days without a break. They were all tired and really needed a rest, a hot meal, and some sleep. They still had a long way to go.

**********

Two days later they reached the edge of the steppes. The ground dropped off in a long, gently sloping valley that eventually rose back up into a sparsely wooded hillside. The land was slightly hilly and the underbrush thickened as they got farther away from the plateau of the steppes. Walking was fairly easy through the breaks in the trees and brush, but the grass was thick and more often than not grew tall enough to come up to their knees. They continued in a southwesterly tack, following around the base of the first of the taller hills.

Small game and fresh water was plentiful, and they made really good time through the low hills. Jozen supplied them with a fresh beaver that had been caught by surprise a little too far from his dam. The land rose up more and more to the southeast, and the trees were more abundant and taller than those scattered in the low valleys they walked through. Small creeks ran in the bottoms, some considerably bigger than others, none presented them with any difficult crossings.

**********

In three days, they reached the far side of the low hills, and the plains beyond. A wide river ran through the grassy flats to the near side of them, and they cut due south around the base of the range of wooded hills. Walking would be easy here on the clear ground, most of the grass had been eaten down by the herds of grazers that came through annually to feast on the fresh growth.

The landscape was again dotted with herds of grazing animals, aurochs, horses, bison, megaceros, and many different kinds of deer and a few species of antelope. The predators were all out there as well, though it was not nearly as easy to see them from a distance. They could hear them though, mostly at sunset and in the darkness of night. Especially the wolves, they could be heard from all around the grassy plains as well as from the wooded hills.

They were only a few days away from the Aurochs Camp, and though tired, they were anxious to get there.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

_**The Clan**_

Mog-ur watched the four stout men of the Clan struggle to pull the heavy raft down to the edge of the water. They dragged it over the ground by the long logs that stuck out past the rectangular, solid center section. When they reached the edge of the water, two men pulled off their foot covers and leggings, tossing them aside and grasping the extended poles of the raft. Wading into the cold, swift water, they stopped when the raft was projected out almost halfway into the river.

The river here was just a little wider than it had been further downstream where it narrowed through the rocky canyon. The opposite bank rose up quickly at first, with dark exposed mud half as tall as a man. The dark colored ground started leveling out it slowly and changed colors with the green grass that grew on the more level surface above the drop off.

The early morning sun was bright between the clouds, but the wind had picked up during the night and was gusting erratically and cool. Clouds were rolling in at a rapid pace carried on the high breeze out of the northeast and there were more than a few dark thunder heads among them, it was smelling more and more like rain. Imminent rain.

Mog-ur wanted to get the crossing behind them before the rain came. He knew that any amount of rain would fuel the swift river even more and make the crossing considerably more dangerous than it was now. No one in the Clan could swim more than a short distance at a time, and even that was difficult. Their stocky bodies and heavy bone structure worked against them in the water, offering very little natural buoyancy. This fact alone made all deep river crossings dangerous, and swift water and deep currents just complicated things all around. At least the river wasn't too wide here, but this current was strong, or so they had been warned.

Rug and Crag supervised the placement of the bundles of supplies, and helped the other men tie them down. They were placed in two rows down the center of the shorter width of the raft, leaving the front and rear clear. The long poles that they used to carry the bundles between them were stashed between the tied bundles, easily accessible.

With all their traveling supplies secured, there was still a good bit of space left clear on both ends of the vessel. Rug and Mog-ur stood together near the water and looked over the raft and the placement of all their earthly belongings. It would not do for them to lose anything, they already traveled with only the barest of necessities due to the nature and potential length of their journey. The soft, distant rumble of thunder from the northeast made both men look up at the sky.

'Are we ready?' Rug signed, looking back at the holy man.

'Yes, get the raft into place.'

Mog-ur took a deep breath, and turned to look back at his Clan. They all stood behind the raft, and he could see anticipation and a little anxiety in their faces. All except Brug. The young boy looked like he was about to go on his first hunt with the men, his deep brown eyes were everywhere and his excitement was obvious.

Rug looked at the hunters and made a gesture for them to assist him. Troog, Borg, and Draag all stepped up to the raft, and began to undress, tossing their clothes into a pile at the back of the raft.

Rug and Draag both stepped down into the cold water, working their way carefully in the slick mud to the front of the raft. They grasped the long extended poles that protruded out past the body of the raft and started pushing it deeper out into the river. The cold water raised goose flesh on their hairy, stocky bodies, and their powerful muscles flexed with the exertion of pushing against the heavy wood vessel.

The raft bobbed up and down, now completely floating in the water. The current on this side of the bank was not too strong, and the two men had little trouble holding it stationary.

Borg helped Ova step onto the edge of the raft, it dipped under her weight and she had to concentrate to keep her balance. She knelt down on the logs, feeling more secure on her knees than when she stood upright and took Ooga from Troog's outstretched arms. Borg helped Etra on next, and she crawled over the narrow pile of supplies and turned back to take Ooga from Aba. Ova made her way forward and sat down with Ooga between her and Etra. They positioned themselves in the center, leaning back against the bundles of supplies, holding on to the straps that held them down.

Crag and Brug were next on board, they went forward and sat flanking the women on the front corners of the floating platform. Borg and Troog helped Aba and Inca settle themselves onto the back of the raft. They faced forward, holding onto the straps that held the supply bundles secure. Troog walked gingerly into the water on the left side of the raft, Borg doing the same to the right. They took up positions standing at the ends of the long poles sticking out past the body of the raft at the rear, holding them tight to help steady the heavy raft.

Mog-ur stood alone on the bank, carefully observing the raft and his Clan. He reached up and grasped his amulet, closing his eyes and silently asked his totem, the grey wolf, for a safe crossing. The distant sound of thunder caused him to open his eyes and look toward the encroaching dark clouds, it was time. Mog-ur stepped down onto the raft next to Aba and got a good grip on the bundle tied down in front of him. He looked up at Rug who watched him board, and nodded.

Rug grunted, and he and Draag pushed hard against the long poles and began walking the raft out into the river. Borg and Troog held on to the ends of the poles until the raft was far enough away from shore for them to get behind them. As soon as they got into position, they grasped the poles and helped Rug and Draag push the raft on into deeper water.

The water reached Rugs chest pretty quickly as the bottom fell away, and he and Draag both wrapped their arms over the poles as their feet lost contact with the now rocky bottom. Borg and Troog both felt the raft start to turn and veer downstream, and pushed harder against the current to correct the rafts direction.

Rug and Draag started kicking their legs in the water, trying to push the raft further into the center of the river. Crag and Brug both leaned down over the edge of the logs and started to help pull the raft along, paddling with their hands, the cold water splashing over the logs and into their faces. The front of the raft bobbed in the water as the turbulence of the river increased.

Borg felt the raft pull him hard to the side when the front of the raft got caught up in the deeper water and the current pulled them harder downstream. The water was getting deeper and his footing began to slip along the slick rocks on the bottom. With a sudden lurch, he pulled his body up and slung his arms over the pole and started to kick with his legs. He could feel the raft being pulled to his right almost immediately, and kicked hard against the current.

Troog almost lost his grip on the pole when the raft turned as Borg lost contact with the bottom, the bottom slid past him, his feet losing all substantial contact. He reached up and wrapped his left arm over the pole, and the raft started to spin slowly. Troog managed to get his other arm up and started kicking for all he was worth.

The raft turned and headed downstream, pulled along by the swift water. It confused the four men in the water, and they had to try and kick forward at only the right times. The raft continued to turn slowly in the river, the bulk of the mens bodies helped to stabilize the raft slightly. They picked up speed as they were pulled farther down stream, but the current did pull them closer to the center of the river.

The heavy raft bobbed along in the rolling waves, splashing cold water over the edges of the logs. They picked up speed and the water rolled on the surface. The raft continued to turn in a slow, lazy circle as they were swept down stream.

Rug grunted loudly and the other three men took heed of his urging them to kick harder against the current. They managed to straighten the raft from its slow spin, and though the raft still pointed more down river than toward the opposite bank they managed to make a little progress in the right direction. They toiled on, kicking for all they were worth.

The swells on the surface began to grow, lifting first one end of the raft, then the other. Crag and Brug took a hard splash of water that hit them straight on as the raft dipped into a swell. The force of the water knocked Brug back and he lost his hold on the bundle of supplies behind him that he had his feet intertwined in. With his balance compromised, he fell forward, his strong hands slipping on the outer most log. Brug was falling overboard, face first. Ova let go of the braided rope with her right hand and grabbed the back of his tunic and pulled him back hard, the strength of the stocky woman of the Clan was enormous. Her grip held, and Brug got a firm grip on the edge of the raft and regained his balance. Ova held on to the braided rope that secured the bundles with her left hand, and held on to Brug's tunic with her right, Brug leaned back down and resumed paddling against the current with his hands.

The raft was now almost to the center of the river, but the river was slowly beginning to turn westerly. The swells grew even taller as their speed increased, splashing over the Clan as the raft dipped into the rushing water repeatedly. The ride got increasingly rougher, and the men in the water were starting to grow weary from their prolonged exertions. They kicked on, trying to gain momentum, but it was hard fighting the force of the river.

Mog-ur looked down river to see the large out crops of rock getting closer, he grunted and pointed toward the cragged bluff. All four men in the water saw what he pointed at, and redoubled their efforts. The raft moved a little further past the center of the river, a huge swell suddenly grasped the raft pushed the back of it around. They were now pointed directly at their destination.

Rug and Draag saw the bank in front of them and kicked harder, willing the raft to obey their efforts. Troog and Borg felt the raft moving forward against the current and pushed themselves even harder than they had been. Brug and Crag pulled with their hands, paddling furiously. Mog-ur felt the raft slow ever so slightly in the grasp of the swift water as it moved toward the shoreline that still seemed to be so far away.

The river began its slow turn in earnest now, narrowing and gaining speed as the ground grew rockier and higher on both banks. The raft bobbed over a large swell, and the men forced it farther east with a surge of power. The progress encouraged them, and they kicked on.

The eastern bank was getting closer, and they could see the river becoming more turbulent in front of them. The water was deep here, and powerful waves of the current reached all the way to the surface. The raft floated down stream sideways, pitching between the waves.

Etra lost her grip on the wet rope and started to fall sideways as a wave hit the raft from the left side. Mog-ur grabbed her by the arm and yanked her back into the bundles, she grabbed hold and held on.

Draag pushed against the log he clung to, kicking hard. He felt a sharp stab of pain when his foot hit an underwater rock, it threw his balance and momentum off and he grasped the pole to hang on. Just as he was about to try and warn Rug, Draag grunted and was pulled under, out of sight.

Draag felt both legs being pulled out from under him and began to lose his grip on the log. He just got a deep breath before the water swept him under. He was turning over and over under water, caught in the swift deep water current. His shoulder slammed into another submerged rock and he would have screamed out in pain if he hadn't been holding his breath. The searing pain made him kick out involuntarily, and he felt the bottom with his feet. He pushed off the rocks as hard as he could, his chest constricting with his efforts. Draag lost half the air he held in his lungs in a single gasp, and he knew he had to get to the surface soon, or not at all.

Rug relaxed his body for a moment, looking for Draag. When he did, his feet dropped down and he felt the rocky bottom. He felt for a foot hold, and pushed against the pole with all his might. The raft lurched forward and turned at the same time, the aft corners heading back down river. Rug pushed harder, pulling against the rafts new direction. The muscles in his arms and legs screamed at him in their exhaustion, he gritted his teeth and pushed on.

Draag saw the blurry light above him and pulled his heavy body toward it, he lost another bit of air and could feel his chest imploding. The pain wracked him, but he pulled harder and harder.

Troog and Borg found the bottom, and pushed forward with a vengeance. The raft tilted, caught by a large swell and Rug pushed again.

Draag kicked hard with his weary legs, but he could feel his strength starting to wane. The surface didn't look any closer, and he reached up with both hands to pull again. Draag was almost out of breath, and fear pushed him to pull again, and again.

Rug stumbled and fell over the pole, his head going under water as his waist hung on the log. Troog and Borg pushed forward and Rug pulled back and his feet again made contact with the rocky bottom. Mog-ur hopped off the raft, and pushed against the back of the raft between Troog and Borg. Crag hopped off the front of the raft and grasped the logs and pulled toward the bank.

Draag's vision began to blur, he pulled one last time as he fought to stay conscious. His head broke the surface of the water, and he gulped a huge lung full of air. He tried to stay on top of the water, but his legs were still in the grasp of the currents and they pulled him under. Draag tumbled under water, the strong current spinning his body around, panic kicked him in the gut and it gave him a surge of strength and he pulled again with both arms, and kicked with all his might.

Rug stepped away from the raft as the edge of it hit the rocks on the bank. He looked back to see Draag's head break the surface and could see his friend take a deep breath then go under. He leaned over the body of the raft and grabbed one of the two long poles between the bundles of supplies. It took a moment to pull it free, then he waded back out into the rushing water on the far side of the raft heading downstream.

Mog-ur and Borg made their way to the rocky bank, and picked up the front logs of the raft and strained to pull it up and over a wide boulder. They succeeded on their second try, the raft was now well out of the dangerous currents. Brug hopped ashore, then turned to assist the women as they all made their way up onto the rocks.

Rug looked out over the surface of the river, trying to see any sign of Draag. The moving water made it impossible to see into its depths at all. He waded down river and the water got deeper, quickly reaching up almost to the center of his chest. The strong moving water pulled at his stocky body.

Draag's head broke the surface of the water again, briefly. He gasped and got a fresh breath of air, and went back under almost as fast. His strength was almost depleted, but still he fought the current. Pulling with his arms and kicking with all the energy he had left, he struggled toward the shoreline. Draag felt his body twist suddenly as his foot caught inside a large crack of a submerged boulder, his upper body turned and he tried to kick his foot free. The powerful current pulled him sideways, his eyes clinched tightly shut as a sharp pain was accompanied by a deep crack as the lower leg bone shattered. Draag kicked out with his uninjured leg and pushed off the boulder which dislodged his trapped foot and shoved his body back to the blessed air above.

A swift side current caused by the large under water boulder pulled him head over heels into shallower water. Draag was worn out physically, and allowed the water to pull him on into the shallows. He felt the rocky bottom and struggled to his hands and knees, the pain in his chest and leg wracking him. His head just cleared the rushing water and he breathed deeply to try and regain his strength, the cool air tasting more delicious than anything he had ever known.

Rug saw Draag crawl into the shallows and rushed over to help him as fast as he could. Crag and Troog followed, leaving Borg and Mog-ur to keep the raft stable against the rocks. Rug found it difficult to get to Draag quickly, the water was hard to walk through and the bottom was slick and hard to keep his footing.

Draag gasped for air, filling his lungs deeply over and over. His stomach suddenly cramped him hard, and he threw up violently into the rushing water below him. Every part of his body ached, and the sharp pain in his leg prevented him from even trying to stand up. He felt his arms begin to tremble from holding his body out up, the adrenalin rush he had experienced was subsiding rapidly leaving him shaky and very weak.

Rug finally got to him, and Draag winced as Rug tried to help him up onto his feet. Rug saw the grimace of pain and let his arms go gently.

'I hurt my leg.' Draag signed awkwardly with one hand as he held it out of the water only long enough to make himself understood.

Rug nodded, and waited until the other men arrived.

Mog-ur found a nice flat area devoid of gravel half way around the side of the craggy bluff, and they set up camp. All their gear was untied and brought up from the raft, then the men pulled the raft up onto the rocky shore, completely out of the water. They had a fire of driftwood going in no time, and the tent was set up with the rocky bluff rising up behind it.

Rug and three of his hunters carried Draag up to the camp and made him comfortable as possible with folded sleeping furs leaned up against a large slanting rock. He leaned back, reclining his battered, sore body. The rest of the men had gotten dressed, but Rug waited patiently for Etra to work her healing magic on him, still nude.

Etra was all over the camp, she had Troog cutting three semi-straight pieces of smooth driftwood into equal length pieces almost as long as his own shins. She had Inca heating rocks to get some water boiling, and Aba was cutting wide strips of leather full length from a cured aurochs hide that had been de-haired.

Mog-ur sat on his knees next to Draag signing over him eloquently, looking up at the cloudy sky and calling on the spirits to assist in driving away the evil spirits from Draag's injured leg. The hunters all watched on with interest, Mog-ur was a master and his mystical power awed them all. Brug sat at Draag's feet, looking on intently, his dark brown eyes showing his concern for the Clan leader.

Etra gathered three empty medicine bowls and a large hand full of small skins, used mostly for washing, and set them to the side of Draag. She was careful to not disturb Mog-ur as he worked over Draag. She pulled her wolverine skin medicine bag off her wide belt, and sat down beside Draag, then opened the top flap and began rummaging through the bag. She pulled several small leather packets out and laid them onto a small skin she spread out on the ground.

Mog-ur finished signing to the spirits, and sat back to watch Etra work. He could see where the leg was damaged, it was still pretty straight, but a deep purple color was spreading down the leg from just below his knee. A narrow, but deep looking gash ran across his shin a hand width down past his knee. There were also an abundance of cuts and scrapes, some of them continued to bleed, though none very heavily.

Etra took the basket of almost boiling water from Inca, and Aba brought her a nice sized stack of wide strips of leather. Etra opened two of the packets, and sprinkled measured amounts of each into an empty wooden bowl. As she dipped a cup full of water from the basket, Draag stared at the intricate carvings of the mammoth and the cave bear that adorned the sides of the bowl. His mind eased a bit, thinking of their friends from the two camps of the Others that had given Etra these fine bowls for the healing elixirs and potions she would make in them.

Draag watched the medicine woman dip a short knuckle bone into the bowl and stir the contents, the color changed slowly to a soft yellow. Etra dipped a small skin into the liquid and started to clean and examine his damaged right shin. Draag clenched his jaw against the burning he felt from the open gash. His body temperature was almost back up to normal from the extreme cold of the river, and he felt things much more acutely now that the numbness of the cold left him. He stifled a groan when she repositioned his leg, pulling his foot back enough to leave working clearance between the leg and the fur spread out on the ground.

When Etra finished cleaning the lower leg, she set the rag aside and began to examine the top bone with probing, strong fingers. The actual break itself was almost hard to locate, and Etra thought this a good sign. The bone appeared to be back in the correct position, and she grasped both sides of it with her fingers, following the bone on each side. Draag flinched at the sudden stab of pain this caused, Etra had strong hands and she probed deeply.

She sat back for a moment to think, digging deep within her memories for more information. Mog-ur watched her, instinctively knowing what she was doing. He had once taken her on a deep exploration within her most ancient memories with the aid of the magic meadow mushrooms. Mog-ur had directed Etra deeper and farther into her own mind than she had ever been, and they had discovered that some of her most distant ancestors had been fully trained medicine women.

When their Clan had been devastated by the renegade band of the Others, their medicine woman had perished. Mog-ur had persuaded Tressie of the Aurochs Camp to train Etra to be a medicine woman, and with the help of the mushroom experience, Etra had learned well. Better than he could have ever reasonably expected.

If only there hadn't been that one odd side effect, Mog-ur thought to himself as he watched her meditate. Ever since that spiritual trip into Etra's deep memories, Mog-ur had encountered feelings of which could have only had come from a woman. It always caught him by surprise, and though interesting to see and better understand how Clan women felt, it annoyed him to no end whenever he had these insights into their thought patterns.

"Rug", I need some of that real black, slick mud from the river.' Etra signed to their leader. Mog-ur was caught off guard at her polite request, a woman asking any man, much less a leader, to do anything was, well, unusual. Un-Clan like even.

If it bothered Rug, he didn't show it. The leader of the Clan thought only of the health and well being of his hunter, no other thoughts crossed his mind. He nodded to his medicine woman and got up and grabbed a small skin and trotted off toward the river. Crag got up and followed him.

Etra looked to Troog who was still scraping a rough spot off one of the thin driftwood branches she had asked him to cut with the flat side of his flint knife. He looked up at her when he felt her eyes on him, then handed her the three sticks. She took the sticks and examined them one by one. Etra took the two that were the most similar, and set them on each side of Draag's shin, testing them for proper length. The smooth sticks pleased her, and the one left was just a tad longer than the other two.

Setting the sticks aside, she picked up the largest medicine bowl and added ingredients from three different pouches from her medicine bag. Etra poured the bowl full of hot water and mixed the new potion thoroughly, it made a light tan colored liquid. She dipped one of the wide strips of leather from the pile into the steaming bowl, wetting it out completely. Etra wrung out the excess, then carefully placed the edge of it on Draag's leg at the knee. She would have liked to have made a pain numbing potion to give him, but for so minor an injury he would be insulted at the mere offer. Clan men masked pain, and took pride in doing so.

Draag tried not to move, but the heat and the stinging solution on the open wound made him flex the muscles in his leg. Etra waited until the hunter was still, then started wrapping the wide strip around the leg tightly. When the strap was at its end, she turned and dipped another one into the tan liquid, and continued the process of wrapping the entire leg from the knee to the top of his ankle.

Rug and Crag returned with a bulging skin full of shiny black mud. They set it down next to Etra, and went back to their seats.

The soothing effects of the leather wrapping set Draag's mind at ease again. He had complete faith in the ability and skills of his medicine woman, he had seen her teacher in action.

Etra pulled the skin of mud closer, and reached in and pulled out a hand full. She worked the dark mud between her hands, adding water that Inca poured on it from a cup as needed until the slurry was the consistency that she wanted. Etra started coating the wrappings on Draag's leg, starting just above his ankle. She worked the mud carefully into a uniform thickness until she had it all used up, then smoothed it with the palms of her hands. Grabbing another hand full of mud, she started the process again, working her way up the leg.

There was still a little of the mud left when Etra had finished. She had a smooth coating of mud a little thicker than her hand from just below the knee to the top of the ankle.

Etra picked up one of the smooth sticks and pressed it into the mud on one side of the shin, she settled it almost flush with the mud coating. She then picked up the second stick and did the same thing on the opposite side of the leg. The third stick was set into the mud centered over Draag's calf muscle.

Mog-ur watched her with an interested eye, somehow this all seemed so vaguely familiar to him. He was sure that he had never seen it done, though, it must be something he saw in Etra's deep memories.

Etra added a large portion of a dark brown powder from another pouch into the large medicine bowl. After adding another cup full of hot water, she mixed it up with the knuckle bone. The mixture was thinner than she wanted it, so she added more of the brown powder and stirred it in. The liquid thickened a bit, and Etra dipped a strap of leather into it and soaked it in the hot mix.

Draag could feel the pain subsiding rapidly, and watched Etra wrap the mud covered leg with three layers of crisscrossed leather dipped in the brownish potion. His confidence in her soared, she seemed to be completely sure of what she was doing.

Etra went back to cleaning his other scratches and abrasions, the one on his shoulder where he had been pulled into the boulder made him flinch a few times. The skin was scraped and raw, and the bruises looked to be pretty deep and painful. She finished up quickly, and looked to both Rug and Mog-ur.

"Draag" must stay off leg for two days.' Her signs were confident, but she lowered her eyes as soon as she finished.

Mog-ur and Rug both nodded, and Draag couldn't have felt more relieved. After such a frightening river crossing, Mog-ur and Rug were more than willing to take a break and rest up a little before continuing on.

'Mud must dry, leather must harden-then can walk.' Etra didn't look up as she signed to her leader and Mog-ur. Inside, she felt a wave of satisfaction. The knowledge was there, there for the taking when she needed it.

Thunder cracked following a bright bolt of lightning that crossed the sky directly above the camp. The rain began, softly at first, then gaining strength gradually. The tent was positioned well and most of the runoff from the bluff passed by without going into the tent. Lightening and thunder continued for a while, and the rain fell steadily.

**********

Dawn broke in a clear blue sky, mists rising off the rolling surface of the river, colored softly by the rising sun. The water level was higher than it had been the day before, and the river was brown and cloudy.

Draag woke up covered by a thin sheen of sweat, no one had gotten very much sleep during the night. He pulled the sleeping fur off his upper body, and the cool air of the morning gave him goose flesh from one end to the other. Draag looked down at his right leg, the wraps and packed mud felt a bit constrictive. He reached down to touch the skin strips and was surprised to find them hard and stiff. Really stiff, the potion Etra soaked them in must have caused this, he thought, how unusual. The ground beneath him was wet and soggy, and he had a strong urge to relieve himself.

Everyone else was still asleep, and Draag looked at Etra asleep beside him. Her medium colored brown hair was loose and covered most her face in curly waves. As much as he hated to disturb her, his need was imminent. Draag reached over with his right hand and touched her shoulder gently.

Etra woke up instantly, and pulled her hair away from her face. She saw his discomfort and had a good idea of his need. Etra rolled over and got up, pausing to give him a quick sign that signaled her return.

Draag took a deep breath, and found that his expanding chest pressed on his tight bladder even more. The relief on his face was obvious when Etra returned with a small woven grass basket and knelt beside him. She helped him roll onto his side, Draag supported himself by holding onto her shoulders and Etra took his swelling member in her hand and aimed it for him. Draag closed his eyes, the situation was odd, but his bladder screamed at him for release.

Etra took the basket outside to empty it when Draag had finished, and was astounded by the beauty of the dawn. Mist covered the rocky ground as it rose up the side of the bluff in thin wisps between the taller rocks, and everything sparkled as the low sun glistened off the droplets of water that covered everything. She stood still, taking in the beauty of the morning listening to the soothing sounds of the song birds singing in the new day, knowing that it wouldn't last very long.

**********

Crag led the hunters out on a reconnaissance mission around the bluff to the southeast following a morning meal of dried meat and grain mash. The men trotted in single file, snaking their way through the rocky ground at a pace that they could keep up for hours. The four of them all carried their favorite flint tipped spears, with an extra spear strapped across their backs.

Mog-ur stood at the edge of the camp with Brug, watching the hunters leave. They were out of sight in no time, and he put his hand on the young boys shoulder to get his attention. Brug took one last lingering look, then looked up at the holy man.

'Hunt the river bank to the north,' Mog-ur signed to the anxious young man. 'The hunters may not be successful, I hunger for fresh meat.'

The look of satisfaction on Brug's face replaced the frustration he felt because he was not yet a recognized Clan hunter. He nodded to the Mog-ur and turned and scampered into the tent to fetch his own spears.

Mog-ur walked back to the fire, and sat down next to Draag who leaned back against the side of a smooth boulder. Draag looked uncomfortable with his leg wrapped and plastered with the heavy river mud, but he was glad to have the Mog-ur's company. It was hard for him to sit by while his hunters went out without him, Draag felt worthless.

Ooga walked over and reached out to Mog-ur, he helped the little girl settle into his lap. She reached up and tugged on his beard gently, then lay her head against his chest and wrapped her small arms around the barrel shaped chest of the older man. Ooga looked at Draag, her deep brown eyes shining and so full of life and innocence. Draag felt a flush of warmth from the child's peaceful, contented stare. It reminded the Clan hunter of their purpose, and for a moment his lingering feelings of his own inadequacies subsided a bit, then began to fade away all together.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

_**The Aurochs Camp**_

Branag and Ludeg carried a small saiga antelope dangling between them suspended from a full length throwing spear on their shoulders. The massive steppes spread out behind them and they walked around the base of a low hill that was covered with short brush, heading south. Branag led them toward a well used trail that led back through the valley and on to the Aurochs Camp, still a good way ahead. The antelope had a single wound at the base of its wide neck, just above the shoulder. The young boy Mortan and the old hunter Rymar followed them, walking together. Rymar had his hand on the boys shoulder and a proud look on his weathered face. Mortan face glowed with satisfaction.

"For a first major kill, that was one fine spear throw, Mortan." Rymar said loud enough for the other men to hear. "Powerful and accurate, just right."

Mortan smiled up at the old hunter that had tutored him for so long now. It pleased him greatly whenever Rymar complimented on his skills, and he was proud of the kill–his first large animal.

"Thank you, I was very nervous."

"Everyone is nervous the first time, and most times if you want to know the truth." Rymar said with a chuckle. Branag and Ludeg laughed as well, first hunts were always hard on the head.

"My first hunt didn't go nearly as well as yours, Mortan." Ludeg said, a broad smile on his sweat streaked face. "I hit an aurochs right in the rump and she turned and charged me, I don't think I ever ran away so fast in my life."

The three men all laughed at the memory of the incident, and Mortan chuckled as he tried to picture it in his mind. Rymar remembered the hunt well, he had been the one to kill the maimed aurochs. So many hunters I have taught over the years, he thought with a satisfied smile, so many young boys.

Mortan felt more like a man today than he ever had. To be included in this group, after yearning and wishing for it for so long left him exhausted mentally. He wished that Brug was here to share it with him, Mortan missed his hunting buddy of the Clan. Have you made your first major kill yet, he wondered, I wish you were here. I'll bet we would have got an antelope each, he thought with pride.

Rymar had taken both young boys under his wing at the end of the last summer. He continued his tradition of turning boys into hunters, teaching them to track and to stalk, and to know their prey. Rymar had become a master at hunting alone in the woods, using camouflage and stealth to successfully track and kill the wary animals of the woody hills. He buried himself in instructing these two young boys to help dull the loss of the only son of his hearth. Rymar scratched at his scraggly beard, the sweat dripping through it tickling his jaw, I should shave soon, he thought absently as he walked.

Branag slowed seeing an old fire pit at the base of the gently rising hill to the left, the charred ground and circle of rocks sticking out in the waving sea of short green grass. It was almost mid day, they had been out since before dawn and he didn't want to push Rymar's endurance. They still had a pretty good walk ahead of them, and the trail was mostly up hill.

"I'm hungry, why don't we stop and fix up something to eat?" Branag said over his shoulder, loud enough for all of them to hear.

"Good idea, I could use some hot tea." Ludeg said, knowing the real reason for the rest, and glad that Branag was such a good leader as to think of such things. Branag had been Ludeg's best friend for almost as long as he could remember, and even as a rowdy youth he had shown leadership skills. With Branag in their tight little group of friends at the annual summer meetings, they hardly ever got caught doing the stupid things that all adolescents seemed inclined to have to do. Ludeg grinned to himself, so glad to have gotten past such an awkward phase of growing up.

Rymar was the oldest member of the Aurochs Camp, and though still in excellent physical condition, older was older. There was no reason to push him, and besides, what a beautiful day it is, why hurry?

Branag and Ludeg set the field dressed antelope gently to the soft grass, and Mortan ran around gathering dried dung and cutting clumps of dead grass for the fire. Ludeg walked over to a large bush that was about half dead and started cutting away some of the larger dead twigs. Branag stretched his large powerful body, twisting his shoulders to work out a slight kink or two.

Rymar watched Mortan with a grin, oh to have so much energy again, he thought. He used the burnt end of a short stick he pulled from the fire pit to stir and break up the packed ashes and uncovered several round cooking stones. Rymar pulled the round stones aside, then rubbed them with his hands to clean the packed ashes off them.

Mortan brought him a clump of dead grass and three disks of dried dung, smiling as he dropped them on the ground and scampered off for more. Rymar started the fire with a well placed whack of a firestone, using the grass to get the blaze going. The soft breeze blowing in off the steppes fanned the flames nicely.

Mortan came back with half the bush that Ludeg had chopped up, and dropped it next to the dung. He paused to look at his antelope for a long, serene moment, admiring his kill again. Wow, he thought again, I really did that. With a big grin, he turned and went back after more fuel for the fire.

The look of proud accomplishment didn't escape Rymar. He had seen this look before, and he thought back to Mortan's very first kill. How long ago was it really? It seemed to the old hunter and teacher that it was only yesterday. Rymar thought about the wily old badger they had come across at the edge of the creek and how Mortan had a bad case of the shakes as he tried to ready his first real throw. The short spear had wobbled in the air, but struck the badger in the center of the chest all the same.

Time passes so quickly, he thought as he tended the fire, it was not so long ago that Worlen made his first real kill. Rymar's eyes watered up, thinking of the only son of his hearth, now dead and gone. So many losses, so many joys, so much pride. Rymar had lost his mate when Worlen was only a young lad, she had succumbed to the spring sickness that seemed to strike whole camps some years. Never a very robust woman, he remembered her fondly. So dainty and petite, such a fine woman. Rymar could close his eyes and see her long flowing wheat colored hair and brilliant blue eyes, his beautiful little woman. She would have been so proud of the young man that Worlen had grown up to be, he showed so much promise even as a child. Worlen had selflessly gone on the mission to try and save the Wolf Camp, but had not returned. He had been gored by a rhinoceros during the journey, and buried in the wilds on the bank of a river that Rymar would never see. He would never get over the loss and the deep sadness he felt whenever he thought of these two special people. Mortan rushed up to his side again, dropping three more discs of dung next to him. He smiled at the old hunter, and ran off again, Rymar couldn't help but to smile at the antics of the excited boy.

**********

Jozen thought he saw something up ahead, and slowed to look harder. The long pole on his shoulder jerked forward as Vincavec was caught off guard and didn't see him slow and continued to push on. Jozen stumbled, then regained his footing when Vincavec stopped.

"I thought I saw something," Jozen said, his eyes sweeping the horizon out in front of them. The two men set the heavy pole and hanging skin full of supplies down to the ground. They had been walking since just before dawn without a stop, and were both a little weary.

"It's about time we stopped, I want to fix something to eat." Stolie said to Matera beside her. "I'm hungry."

The two women caught up to the men, and stopped next to them. Vincavec put his arm around Matera's waist, pulling her body tight against his own. She leaned her head against the side of his head gently, she was tired too.

"There!" Jozen said, pointing to a thin wisp of dark smoke coming over the top of the low rising hill to the south. It dissipated quickly, and another dark thread appeared in its place to fade out almost as fast.

The band had been walking along the base of the low hills that bordered the steppes, the walking was easiest here in the low, heavily grazed grass. The base of the hills jutted out into the steppes unevenly, and their direction was never a very straight line. The mid day sun was bright and hot, but the gentle breeze that came off the steppes was pleasant enough to make for fairly comfortable traveling.

"That has to be a camp fire," Vincavec said softly. "As close as we are to the Aurochs Camp it has to be one of their hunting parties, surely."

Matera felt a cold shiver start at the base of her back and spread up her spine quickly. It has to be the Aurochs Camp, she thought, it just has to be. The constant fear that they all had of coming up onto one of the bands of raiders from the northern camps was never far out of their thoughts. They would be totally helpless if they were seen and spotted, and they all knew it.

"Let's rest here for a little, and I'll walk up to the top of that hill and see if I can make out who it is." Jozen suggested, pointing to the scattered trees on top of the hill.

"I'll go with you." Vincavec said, and gave Matera a squeeze. "You two stay here, we'll be right back---don't make a fire though."

Matera nodded, and let go of her promised after kissing his colorfully tattooed cheek. Jozen and Vincavec dropped their heavy back packs and pulled their spear throwers and three spears each and trotted off to the south. They went straight up the gently rising slope of the closest hill to their southwest, rounding a pair of short oaks to the east side of the trees.

Stolie and Matera dropped their packs as well, and sat down in the grass to wait. Stolie opened one of the packs and pulled out some dried meat in a leather packet. Matera opened a water bag and took a long drink before offering it to Stolie. They both took off their sweaty tunics and laid them out on the green grass to dry out in the sun.

**********

"Well, now that's a welcome sight." Jozen said, peering through the green leaves and red berries of a wide bush at the top of the hill. They looked down at the three men and a boy sipping tea around the small camp fire at the edge of the next hill in front of them. The boy sat next to what appeared to be a freshly killed deer or antelope on the ground.

"Is that Branag?" Vincavec asked, not quite able to see well enough to tell for sure.

"Branag and Ludeg both," Jozen said, a relieved smile on his face. "I'm not sure who else is with them."

"Good, your eyes are better than mine. Go on down and tell them we're coming, I'll go and get the women." Jozen nodded, and Vincavec turned and started back down the hill.

Jozen stood up and turned to watch Vincavec go, then looked back down at the smoky fire. He started downhill at a trot, rounding a thick stand of more of the berry covered thickets of brush. It was easy to keep up a good, fast pace down the slope of the hill and he put a lot of ground behind him quickly. He lost sight of them for a little bit through some short trees, and flushed a pair of spotted deer that were bed down in a thicket of briars as he ran past them. The deer ran off through the trees behind him and out of sight.

When he cleared the short, gnarly evergreens, he figured that he was close enough now for them to hear him and yelled out. "Halloooo!"

Mortan looked up and saw Jozen trotting down the hillside. "Look, someone's coming."

The three men all looked and spotted Jozen, and got up to see him better. Ludeg and Branag went out and trotted toward him, spears loose in their hands. They met up with him at the base of the hill, all of them a little short of breath by the time they got there.

"Jozen, what are you doing here?" Luged asked, panting slightly from the short run.

Jozen took the outstretched hands that Branag offered, squeezing them tightly, his breathing hard and ragged. "We got trouble..."

**********

"...and there was really nothing left, they were all dead. The Sturgeon Camp was completely and utterly destroyed." Vincavec said, finishing his tale and looking back down to the ground. It was a hard story to tell, it brought back too many bad memories.

They all sat around the fire, sipping tea. The travelers from the Cave Bear Camp facing the Aurochs Camp hunters. It was silent for a long, uncomfortable moment as the men of the Aurochs Camp took in the tragic tale. For Branag and Ludeg, it sounded all too familiar.

Branag scowled and squared his broad shoulders, his voice angry and full of resolve and his eyes blazed when he spoke. "Well, we have defeated them before. We'll just have to do it again somehow."

"Branag, I'm not sure that you realize what we are up against this time." Jozen said, looking directly into the angry large man's eyes. "There were signs of two groups of raiders this time, large groups."

"It's not like last time, Branag. I don't think there is any way to stop them now." Vincavec said, a resigned edge to his voice, looking over at each of the men sitting across from him.

Branag paused, forced to reevaluate his immediate feelings. The anger he felt was almost all consuming, the madness of it all brought back the deep feelings of blood lust---and more. His hands trembled, and he looked up to see Vincavec's sad expression.

"So what do we do?" Branag's words were almost harsh. "How do we warn the other camps? How do we protect them?"

"I don't think we can," Matera said, her voice even and calm. "We came to try and warn you and the Lion Camp. We have to flee, we must be gone from these lands before they get this far. The northern camps out number us by far, even split into two groups. There are just too many of them."

"Branag, I don't think I can fight them again." Vincavec said, and dropped his eyes back to the ground in front of him again, welling up with tears. "I just can't do it, take more human life I mean---no matter how evil they are."

Vincavec's words affected them all, especially Ludeg and Branag. They had all had the same kind of nightmares, felt the same doubts of the righteousness of their actions. They all feared the consequences they faced when they went on to meet Mut and her judgement in the spirit world. It was quiet again, this time for a long time as each of them turned inward to examine their feelings.

"What about Cave Bear Camp?" Ludeg asked.

"We had a choice, to try and get back there to flee before they arrived, or to try and beat them here---we chose to come here." Matera said. "Vincavec would have it no other way, he feels that he owes you all his life."

"We all agreed," Stolie said, squeezing Jozen's hand hard in her own. "We do all owe you our lives."

Branag thought about this, and tried to concentrate on all he had heard thus far, his mind spinning. He understood how Vincavec felt about fighting again, and didn't blame him at all. As co-leader of the Aurochs Camp, though, he had the heavy responsibility of protecting his own people.

"So what do you propose we do?" Ludeg asked.

"The only thing I know is we need to get out, out away from the lands of the Mamutoi. To get away from these madmen once and for all." Vincavec replied.

"You mean to just leave our homes and run---run to where?" Branag asked, exasperation lacing his now tired voice. He had lived in these lands all his life, it was his home, the only home he ever knew.

"Where could we possibly go that they wouldn't eventually find us?" Ludeg asked softly, as much to himself as to the others.

"I don't know." Vincavec wished for a better answer, but he had none to offer. As many times as he had tried to think it all through, he never came to a solid conclusion.

"We need to talk to Talut and Tulie, maybe they will know what to do, where to go." Matera said with more confidence than she really felt.

Mortan had been quiet throughout the entire conversation, he knew the story of the conflict with the raiders, but at his age, he really didn't understand it all. He was only a little over five and a half years old, though tall and strong for his age. Mortan was a little uncomfortable to speak out, this was a serious adult conversation after all, but he decided to risk it anyway.

"Why don't we all go to the 'Land of the Sun'?" He asked softly.

All the adults focused their attention the boy, the Aurochs Camp men all smiled. The Cave Bear Camp travelers were surprised, and more than a little confused at his words.

Matera looked at Mortan, his face was so full of the innocence of youth. "Where?"

**********

The Aurochs Camp was bustling with normal daily activity. Men worked on the new small lodge installing the smoke hole cover at the center of the domed roof. Some of the grass covering the walls and roof of the lodge was still a little brown, but most of it was bright green and thickening nicely. Women were all over the camp, doing various tasks in and out of the main lodge.

Deegie and Tressie worked over the large flat rock on the ground near the main outdoor fire pit slicing onions and mushrooms they pulled from a tightly woven grass basket. Brydag squirmed in Regan's lap beside them. Deegie couldn't help but to laugh at her little boys antics as Regan tickled his fat belly with her long, light brown hair. The baby giggled and reached up trying to grab the hair that swished over him again and again. His eyes shown with the simple joys of life, his forehead wrinkling in his happiness.

Thorec walked over to them and sat next to Regan, his promised. He could see the yearning in her eyes for a baby of her own, and had to admit to himself that this idea did have a certain appeal. What a joy Brydag was to be around, he was such a happy child, and very easy to keep content. Thorec reached down and let Brydag grasp his finger and pull it down toward his fat little cheeks. He pulled against the child's grip, testing his strength and found it surprisingly sound.

Regan leaned over and swept her hair across the baby's face, and he giggled and kicked his legs. Regan tickled his feet, and he squirmed all the more. Thorec laughed aloud, and put his free arm around Regan's shoulders. Brydag cooed happily, reaching up with his pudgy hands, grasping at the flowing hair.

"Look who's back!" Salen said from the small lodge he was working on, tying a full sized bison hide to the top cross member at the lodge entrance. Tathan held the other side of the bison hide tight, but looked out where Salen was pointing with his free hand.

All attention focused on the returning small band of hunters coming up the trail through the trees to the north. The camp was quiet as they approached, more people were returning than had left this morning.

"Is that Vincavec?" Regan said softly to herself. The sound of her voice carried far in the silence of the camp.

"Oh great Mother, something's wrong!" Thorec said, easily recognizing Matera walking beside Vincavec. His heart skipped a beat as a slew of terrible thoughts raced through his mind.

**********

The entire camp gathered and settled in around the main fire pit, making good use of the seating logs and the ground. The looks on the faces of the returned hunters and the Cave Bear Camp travelers subdued the novelty of having unexpected guests.

The excitement of Mortan's successful first major kill was overshadowed for the most part, but the men of the Aurochs Camp all managed to show their pride of his accomplishment. A wink, a pat on the back, a little something special that every one of them was able to convey enough emotion that Mortan was as happy as he could be. It was hard for the youngster to keep still as the rest of the camp congregated for what he figured to be more serious adult talk. Mortan kept an eye on this antelope on the ground a few steps away from the fire, he couldn't help himself.

"As co-leader of the Aurochs Camp of the Southern Mamutoi, I welcome our guests, our friends from the new cave Bear Camp." Tessie said, Branag standing beside her in front of the fire. "How can we be of service to you?"

Tessie and Branag both sat down with their mates as Vincavec and Matera stood up and looked over the crowd. It was quiet for what seemed like a long time, the tension built up slowly. Vincavec cleared his throat, and every one in the assembled group hung on his every word when he started to speak.

"We have a problem...

**********

"...and we found the Sturgeon Camp completely destroyed. There was no one left alive and the lodge itself looked like it was ready to collapse."

A murmur swept through the crowd. Angry, hurt voices and even a few wails of anguish rumbled through the gathering.

"We came here to warn you---and to try and figure out what to do." Matera said, taking up the story. Tears ran freely down Vincavec's cheeks beside her.

"We think that if you do nothing, the raiders will come here and destroy this fine camp and the Lion Camp---just like they did to my Sturgeon Camp." Matera's voice broke, and she reached up to wipe away her own tears.

"There has been enough death and destruction," Vincavec said. "I think we should run away and leave this madness to the northern camps. I don't think we will survive if we stay and fight."

Branag stood up and faced the crowd, Deegie stayed seated beside him, Brydag nursing peacefully. Branag took a deep breath, and spoke in an even, tempered voice. "I think I can speak for all of us when I say that we have no wish to stand and fight our fellow Mamutoi. Even if they are misguided---and evil."

The crowd murmur returned, louder and more voracious this time. Branag waited until they quieted before going on.

"Tomorrow, we pack up and go. Everything we can carry, we will take with us." He had to pause again for the noise to abate.

"But Branag, where will we go?" Tathan, Tessie's mate, asked. His strong voice rising over the din of the crowd.

Branag looked at him directly and smiled. "I figure we need to talk to the Lion Camp, surely Talut and Tulie will know what to do and where to go."

**********

The evening meal was served early, long before the sun began its descent toward the western horizon. Delectable flame roasted antelope on the spit with a nice mixed vegetable stew. Mortan finally got the recognition that he deserved, by everyone. There were more comments on the tenderness and flavor of the meat than he could ever remember, and by the end of the meal he was almost embarrassed by all the attention.

Though the circumstances of their visit were not pleasant, the guests were welcomed with open arms and hearts. A lot of catching up went on all afternoon and into the early evening. It was all so odd, the entire camp was quietly sorting through and packing up their belongings in a strangely demure way. Jozen and Rymar made new back packs for several of the women who had only the small packs for gathering. They had to fit them for size, but the men were rather expert and the progress they made was impressive.

Activity was everywhere, people bustling about with purpose. Salen and Mortan smoothed three new long poles free of bark and bumps, scraping them with their knives. Deegie and Marsie, an older woman, stretched out both the mid sized traveling tents to check for any needed repairs. Matera helped Tressie to bag up and finish processing various herbs and plants from her two drying racks in the back of the lodge. Rymar and Tathan helped Branag sort through tool heads and spear points from a basket of worked and partially worked flint projects. Everyone in the camp was busy, and the normally neat lodge was a mess of piles and general chaos.

By the time the sunlight had faded into darkness, the piles had shrunk and the sorting process got more serious. It reminded Branag of packing up to leave for a summer meeting, but their was no joy in the chore this time. The mood of the camp was very subdued and more than a little sad. Brydag grabbed a loose lock of his hair and tugged on it with a yank. Branag reached up and tickled his exposed armpit getting a cooing smile and his hair freed up at the same time. He turned Brydag around to face him, and gave him a loud raspberry at the base of the fat baby's neck. Brydag kicked with both feet and giggled with delight.

Ludeg walked up to Branag, and reached out to take Brydag from him. The little boy squealed happily when Ludeg swung him around then held him up high over his head. Branag couldn't help but to smile at his strapping little son who never seemed to be at a loss for attention.

"Do you think I should go on ahead to the Lion Camp and let them know we're coming?" Ludeg asked, lowering the fat baby to his chest, holding him tight.

"No, with all the stuff we have to take with us we will probably need every available hand to carry it all." Branag said, watching Tressie walk by with a stringy vine of some kind puffing out from her hands as she went back into the main lodge. "Talut likes surprise guests, so let's just get there as quick as we can."

"I wonder how close the raiders are?" Ludeg asked as Brydag reached a pudgy hand up to his face trying to grasp his nose.

"I wonder about that myself." Branag answered, a wrinkle of worry spreading across his scarred brow. "I want to get out of here as early as we can in the morning."

**********

It was still pretty early in the morning when Ludeg led the long line of people down the trail to the southeast. The trail wound through the scattered trees and back to the south before beginning its ascent up the face of the next heavily wooded hill. At the crest of the hill, the trail wound around a wide patch of brush then headed due south again. The sun was almost a quarter of the way up the sky, and the breeze was cool but erratic in the uneven terrain. It promised to be another hot day.

The trail was well used and wide enough for the long string of people to walk two and sometimes three wide with ease. The view was spectacular from the top of the hill, and they could see a beautiful blue winding creek at the bottom of the valley below through gaps in the trees. The procession moved on down the hill carefully, the trail winding around obstacles and descending quickly.

Branag and Vincavec brought up the rear, a heavy pole loaded with supplies between them on their shoulders. They slowed at the crest and Branag looked back through the trees down to the Aurochs camp, the hanging skin of supplies swaying as they stopped. He could see part of the new lodge that had never even been lived in, and a large part of the main lodge that had been the first home of the Aurochs Camp through the trees. A stab of pain hit him deep in the chest at the thought that this could possibly be the last time he would ever look at this wonderful home that he had loved so much.

Vincavec waited patiently, seeing the pain in the young man's eyes, a pain he knew personally so very well.

Branag saw a thin wisp of smoke escape from the central fire pit, they had scattered dirt over the coals before they left. A single tear rolled down his cheek, and he took a deep breath taking in the sight of his home one last time. He made a subtle motion with his right hand, a Clan sign that meant, 'until we meet again', and turned away from his home for the final time.

Vincavec turned as well, and they followed the trail over the crest of the hill and started down. An eagle soared overhead, screeching out loudly. Branag looked up and watched her fly past them, heading due south.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

_**The Clan**_ _**and the Lion Camp**_

Draag walked with a pronounced limp around the perimeter of the camp under a sky sparkling with stars, he had persuaded Rug that he was able to take the first watch by himself. It hadn't been easy, but he had been walking around some on his injured leg for the last two days now. Draag wanted the opportunity to test the leg more substantially without Etra and Rug watching his every move.

Etra had been giving him a potion three times a day that helped to dull the pain, but it seemed to Draag that she and Rug had been entirely too over protective of him. It had been five days now since the Clan had made the difficult river crossing, Draag knew that he needed to get used to walking. He didn't want to be the reason for any further delay, the 'Land of the Sun' wasn't getting any closer.

The stiff cast of dried black mud, smooth sticks and hard leather wrappings that Etra had put on his leg seemed to be working well. There was still a fair amount of pain involved, but a man didn't worry too much with simple pain, did he? Draag walked slowly, using the butt of his long throwing spear as a support when he felt himself lose his balance or his footing slipped in the loose gravel. He was able to walk pretty well, all things considered, and the more he pushed himself the better he got.

Draag stopped at the fire and added two heavy, waterlogged sticks to the fire, they popped and sputtered in the heat. He watched the flames surround the new sticks for a moment before turning away from the glowing light and made another round.

The camp fire was a very smoky affair intentionally, they were using fuel soaked in water to generate as much smoke as possible. Two wide racks of young aurochs meat were set close by downwind to cure and the drying process was almost complete. The smoke would add flavor to the meat, and help to cure it quicker than just air drying. Both rear legs had already been cooked over the spit and consumed, the rest of the supply of meat hung on the racks. Draag was surprised that no predators or scavengers had hassled very much them so far, he figured their proximity to the rocky bluff was to the Clan's advantage. Wolves had taken the entrails and the bony leftovers of the kill the first night, they had dragged them out past the bluff to the edge of the steppes. Draag heard movement in the rocks from time to time, but nothing very close.

Rug watched quietly from the dark shadows just inside the tent. Whenever Draag walked past the front of the tent, he observed the hunter as he walked the perimeter. Draag was doing well, but Rug worried that the man was pushing himself too hard. The Clan had a long way to go, and he needed every hunter they had to be fit and able. Rug held his amulet, feeling the objects inside, taking comfort from it as he wished for wisdom from his totem.

**********

Crag walked outside the tent, the night was almost half over. He saw Draag walking toward him from the north, limping slightly. Crag knelt at the fire on the upwind side, and added a few wet, heavy sticks from the pile nearby. A covered basket of tea sat close to the fire on the ground, and he helped himself to a cup as Draag approached. Crag picked up Draag's cup and filled it as well, holding it out to him as he sat down a little awkwardly with a grunt. Draag lay his spear down across his legs in his lap, the flint point sparkling in the firelight.

Draag nodded, taking the hot tea, then signed. 'All quiet.'

Crag yawned, then nodded back, and signed. 'How leg?'

'Good, we leave soon.' The look on Draag's face was confident, but with a slight hint in his eyes that he was not telling the whole truth. Crag noticed this, but gave away nothing with his own expression. It was very, very difficult for any person of the Clan to even consider to lie or tell any kind untruth, even by omission to one another.

Crag yawned again, and Draag sipped the tea, lowering his eyes and feeling the dull ache in his lower leg. He had walked most of his watch, pushing himself to test the limits his injury---and his own ability to endure the pain and discomfort. Draag was a relatively young man, and had never sustained any kind of a major injury in all of his nineteen years. This was all an unknown experience for him personally, and he dealt with it as well as he could.

The two men sat together in the near silence of the night, enjoying the stillness and the beauty of the glistening stars. The half moon glowed brightly, casting an eerie glow off the rock bluffs to the south. A soft, cool wind blew over them in light gusts carrying the smells of the steppes to them from the southeast, and the substantial smoke from the fire toward the river. A trio of wolves howled at the moon, they were all a long way away past the bluff.

**********

Etra passed cups of steaming tea around as the Clan came outside into the soft light of the dawn, straggling out of the tent in twos and threes. It wasn't long before the entire Clan was up and around, warming themselves at the smoky fire in the brisk morning air. The men all sat around the fire, relaxing and enjoying the new day. The rest they had gotten since the river crossing had them all feeling strong and eager to move on.

Brug sat next to Crag, examining the flint tip of his spear. Though well used thus far on their journey, it was still perfect.

'I go hunt, look for beaver.' He signed up to Crag with a serious look on his face. It was his habit to hunt early in the morning by himself, usually bringing back a small animal or two before the sun had barely cleared the horizon.

Crag looked over to Rug who sat on the other side of the boy, Rug gave no sign of objection. Crag nodded to the boy, then made a brief sign with his free hand. 'Where hunt?'

Brug pointed back down river, then made a sweeping motion before he stood up and picked up his scabbard of extra spears from the ground behind him. He slipped the wide strap over his shoulder, and positioned the angle of the protruding spears to where they rested across his back to his liking. Brug looked at Rug and then Crag, and walked away from the fire to the north.

Aba walked out of the tent carrying a small basket of yesterdays grain cakes, she saw Brug walking away from the camp and angling toward the river. The pride showed in her face as she watched her son's posture slowly change as he walked. His steps slowed a little and his shoulders squared and he flexed his fingers on the shaft of the spear, testing and adjusting his grip. He is getting so big and strong, she thought, he will be a man soon.

Mog-ur sipped his tea, watching Draag out of the corner of his eye. He had the ability of observing people closely, without being obvious about it. Mog-ur knew his Clan, he knew their individual strengths and weaknesses as a good Mog-ur should. It was time to make a decision, but Mog-ur wanted a little more information before committing them to their next course of action. He stood up and held his cup out to Etra who came over to him quickly and took it to refill it. When she handed it to him he gave her a subtle look and turned away to walk out away from the camp fire to the north. Etra followed a few steps behind him.

When they were a little way away from the camp, Mog-ur veered to the east and put the tent between them and the others. He stopped and Etra came up beside him.

'It safe yet for "Draag" to travel?'

Etra wrinkled her brow as she thought about her answer before she signed. 'Yes, if not push hard.'

'Good, send "Rug".

Etra nodded and returned to the camp. Mog-ur looked up to the top of the rocky bluff, its craggy silhouette looked majestic in the pale blue early morning sky. He would like to meditate again to think on the advantages and disadvantages of moving on now, but he had done so several times in the last two days and felt that it was time. Mog-ur would have felt more secure if he had seen a positive sign from his totem, but none had presented itself to him thus far.

Rug approached Mog-ur, and stood beside him reverently. He looked down into the deep brown eyes, knowing that a decision was about to be made.

'We leave as soon as meat is ready.' Mog-ur signed, then went on. 'Lead us around the bluffs to the steppes, but not walk quickly.'

Rug nodded, but Mog-ur could see the concern in the Clan leader's eyes.

'Will not push "Draag", be mindful of stamina.'

Mog-ur could see a lot of the worry melt away from Rug's strongly featured face. For one never trained to lead the Clan this man had become a good leader, competent, strong, and compassionate.

Rug turned away and returned to the camp, Mog-ur looked back up to the top of the bluff and relaxed a little bit. The decision was now made, he could take his mind off the conflicting thoughts that had given him so much trouble over the last few days. Mog-ur saw movement toward the top of the bluff, and stared at it for a moment. The head of a mountain goat came into view briefly, its large curved horns magnificent between the rocks. He watched the animal for a few moments, then turned to walk back to the camp.

A bright sparkle caught his eye after only a few steps, and Mog-ur paused and knelt down to look for the source of the strange sight. He found it easily, the golden color of a small firestone stood out among the grey and brown rocks on the ground. Mog-ur reached down to pick it up, it was tiny, way too small to use to create the sparks to start a fire, but it was incredibly beautiful. Angular and faceted, it came to a sharp point on one end, and the other was jagged and obviously broken off from a larger piece that was no where near the spot on the ground where it came from.

Mog-ur felt a wave of relief flow over him, and his mind cleared as he pulled his amulet from around his neck. He fumbled with the knot, it hadn't been untied since they left the Lion Camp and it had been wet a few times since. When he finally got the small bag open, he dropped the shiny stone into it and tied it closed before putting the amulet back around his neck. Mog-ur felt the increase in the weight of the amulet immediately, and he was comforted by it.

Thank you for the sign, great grey wolf, he thought, I know we are doing the right thing now. His steps were just a little lighter as he walked the rest of the way back to the camp. Only Etra noticed.

**********

Rug led the Clan around the far side of the rocks. He walked slowly and carefully in the loose gravel, footing was a little slick and the ground was uneven. He was mindful of their pace anyway, both in consideration of Draag, and for Mog-ur who followed closely behind him. Mog-ur carried the other end of the pole with the dangling skin heavy with supplies, it was the first time Mog-ur had participated in this chore and it took some getting used to. So far, after an initial stage of awkwardness, the old holy man had done very well.

The steppes lay out before them in all its waving green glory. A large herd of horses grazed off in the distance to the east, a small group of old male bison a little closer to the southeast, and a pack of hyenas lounged about between them. Two rhinoceros, three hugely antlered megaceros, and a dozen or so antelope all meandered slowly out in front of them to the south at varying distances. The different species of grasses varied in shades of green and in the heights that they grew. The steppes gradually narrowed to a blunt point to the south as the rolling hills began to encroach from either side. Long before the base of the hills began, several individual trees dotted the grassy flats. Under a particularly large tree with wide sweeping branches, the ominous tan lumps of a pride of cave lions lounged in the shade.

The sun was bright in a nearly clear sky, and a crisp breeze blew in behind them from the northeast. The blue sky was streaked with thin, graceful light clouds that floated high above them, blowing by in the upper currents. It was already warm, and looked to get hotter as the day wore on.

Draag walked beside Crag, his limp less pronounced as he kept up with the hunt leader. Crag shared a pole dangling with a skin of heavy supplies with Troog. They brought up the rear of the line. Brug walked well outside the group of travelers on the west flank, spear ready in his hand, the boys deep brown eyes were everywhere.

Etra walked next to Inca, the first of the women in line. She kept an eye on Draag and the Mog-ur as well, though she did not make it obvious. The medicine woman had her concerns about Draag's leg. She would rather have been able to have made a support for his leg from the bark of the maple tree, but there had been none nearby at the time she had needed it. Etra also worried about the Mog-ur, he wasn't used to carrying the heavy pole of supplies, and ever since his chest injury of so long ago his overall stamina had been reduced considerably. He wasn't getting any younger either, she thought as she watched the older man keeping up well, none of us are she reasoned.

Ooga trotted up beside Etra and tugged on her leggings. Etra stopped and picked up the young girl, situating her on her hip and continued on. Ooga's eyes were wide taking in the beautiful panoramic scene that spread out before them. The young girl had never seen so many animals in one place before and it was exciting to her. She pointed out the different species, one at a time, and signing their names. Etra nodded at each sign, pleased to see the girls interest and her surprising accuracy in naming them all.

Aba followed behind Etra, walking easily. She felt a few pangs of a decidedly dull ache in her lower abdomen from time to time. Aba knew that the child she carried had to be another boy, Brug had given her the exact same sensations when she had been pregnant with him, even from the earliest stages. She felt a warm glow inside, and put a hand on her slightly swelling belly and looked over to watch Brug walking slowly off to her right. Another son, she thought proudly, wishing for it to be so.

**********

It was late in the afternoon when Rug called a halt for the day. They stopped near a single tree with wide spread branches, and pitched camp. All the lower limbs were bare of leaves and twigs, moose, rhinoceros, megaceros, and even the woolly mammoth all loved to eat all the fresh, tender growth they could reach.

Crag and Brug left the camp and walked slowly to the southwest, spears ready. Brug had killed a beaver this morning and a rabbit later in the day, but as usual he wanted to try for more to help supply the entire Clan with fresh meat for the evening meal. Crag lifted his spear up and into throwing position slowly, making an exaggerated throwing motion in slow motion. His arms and shoulders were a little sore from toting the heavily laden pole all day, and this helped him to loosen up the stiff muscles. Brug walked a few steps ahead of him, slowing to a careful, quiet stalk as they approached a tall clump of grass blowing in the breeze.

Brug pulled his spear up and flexed his right hand into a tighter grip. He took two more steps, then stopped to watch, then did it again. Crag watched the boy, proud of his hunting acumen and technique.

Finding nothing in this ideal hiding place for small animals, they moved on to the south toward the next tall clump of grass. Brug continued to lead the hunt, Crag content follow along and watch his every move. He shows improving patience, Crag thought to himself, pleased with the boys array of skills.

The next clump of grass yielded a big fat hare, and for the first time in a long time Brug missed with his spear. The hare had darted away in a straight line, and Brug had let fly, but while the spear was still in the air, the hare bounded to his right and the spear sailed by harmlessly. Brug had another spear in the air as soon as he saw the hare change direction, and the second throw was accurate and deadly.

Crag saw the grimace of shame and a flash of anger on Brug's face, and followed after the boy to gather his kill. He watched him, and saw the look dissipate slowly, disappearing all together when he got to the dead hare. The spear caught him in the base of the neck, pinning him to the ground at the point of impact. Brug knelt and made a short sign of appreciation to Ursus for the gift of the fallen hare, then pulled his spear free.

Crag had picked up the first spear as they walked, and met up with Brug at the kill. Brug pulled a small piece of lightweight leather scrap from a pouch in his belt, and wiped the blood from the flint tip. When he finished cleaning and examining the glistening sharp tip, finding it undamaged, he set it aside and pulled his bone handled knife from the scabbard that also hung from his belt. He began to gut the hare as Crag arrived and watched.

On the walk back to the camp, Crag signed to the young hunter.

'You ready quick after miss, this is sign of experienced hunter, good job.'

Brug was not too satisfied with his performance, but knew that he had not done all that badly either. It was no disgrace to miss a target as quick and elusive as a hare, but the boy had not missed his intended target in a while and he was a little embarrassed to have missed in front of the hunt leader.

'Hare was quick, but not quick enough.' Crag signed again, putting his hand on Brug's shoulder and squeezing it affectionately. Brug looked up into the deep brown eyes of the experienced Clan hunter, appreciating the gesture.

A large hawk flew in front of them, low in the sky. A huge rat dangled from his sharp talons squirming as he flapped his wide wings gracefully to gain altitude. Crag watched the majestic predator, feeling almost at one with him, the falcon was his totem.

**********

Talut stood bare chested on the edge of the raft holding a large flat, thick rock three times the side of his head between his powerful hands. He lifted it up chest high and crashed it down onto the top of the flat end of a tree trunk that stuck out of the water as high as his navel. The raft was bobbing and dipping in the center of the fast moving river, his efforts magnifying the movements of the raft. Talut had a thick leather strap tied around his waist, and Tulie and Frebec sat in the center of the raft and held onto the ends of the strap in case he lost his balance.

At the other end of the raft Brenan, Danug , and Ranec stood facing away from him holding the raft in position with long poles made of two narrow limbs tied together. Left of Talut at the corner of the raft, a post stuck up from the front of the wooden structure with a thick braided leather rope tied to it that ran all the way to the western bank, upstream.

On the shore, Gralon and Druwez held onto the rope from the raft. The rope was wrapped three times around a thick post pounded into the ground, and it was easy for the two men to hold it in place. They both watched Talut pounding the heavy tree trunk deeper into the mud at the bottom of the river.

"Uummmph." Talut grunted, crashing the heavy rock down again. The rock was getting heavier and heavier, but he persisted in his colossal efforts. The raft dipped every time he hammered the rock onto the flat topped tree trunk that was bigger around than his thigh. It had been chopped into a long tapered point at the other end, and it was deeply imbedded into the bottom of the riverbed. A wide groove was cut around the top of the trunk, three finger widths down, and a finger width deep.

The last blow of the rock had the trunk driven down to the height of Talut's upper thigh, it moved only a little bit at a time. Talut slammed the rock down again, over and over. When the wide post was down level with the top of his knee, he stopped. He set the bulky rock down and sat down heavily on the raft beside it, causing the raft to dip in the water, splashing him.

Tulie got up on her knees and crawled up beside Talut, she had a coil of braided rope in her hand. She wrapped it around the top of the post three times, settling it into the groove and tied it off firmly with several knots. Tulie took the other end of the rope and wrapped it around another post that stuck up from the corner of the raft on the other side of Talut. He steadied her as she reached across him, and she finished quickly and sat back next to Talut.

Brenan, Danug, and Ranec all pushed harder against the poles and the raft lurched upriver a little bit and Tulie untied the long rope that stretched out to the west bank. At a signal from Frebec, the three men let off tension on their poles and the raft settled back into the river held in place securely by the rope around the newly positioned post.

Druwez unwrapped the rope from the pole and started pulling it ashore, coiling it loosely at his feet. The sun was well past its apex in the sky, but it was still strong enough to start drying out the leather rope on the warm ground.

"So, do we go on and pole over to the other side to set the last post?" Tulie asked a very tired but satisfied Talut.

"There is enough daylight left, let's go ahead and finish this." He answered, grinning at his sibling.

"Oh, Mother. What in the world is this all about?" Brenan's voice was soft, but everyone on the raft heard it and looked to see what he was looking at.

On the west bank of the river, a good distance away, a large group of people walked toward them. They carried back packs and poles on their shoulders with skins heavy with supplies dangling between them. Their steps were heavy, they were all obviously very tired.

"Great Mother, that's Vincavec!" Tulie whispered, spotting him walking beside a woman she didn't yet recognize. "That's Branag too, oh, Talut it's the entire Aurochs Camp."

"Let's get back to shore, we need to find out what's going on." Talut said. "I don't like the looks of this."

"This can't be good—isn't that Matera?" Brenan asked.

"Yes, it is her—let's get moving." Talut said, looking back to the three men with poles.

**********

Talut and Tulie led the Lion Camp members, and they met up with the travelers on the bank of the river. The looks on their faces told them much, and they feared the worst.

Vincavec walked up to Talut and embraced him, Matera did the same to Tulie. Vincavec's eyes were wet with tears as he pulled back and looked up to Talut's concerned face. Talut looked past him to Branag and Deegie behind him, the look of sadness was unmistakable.

"It's happening again, but this time it's even worse than before." Vincavec began, his soft voice cracking. "They're coming..."

**********

"...but I don't want to leave, this is our home." Fralie said. She sat on the end of a log that was crowded with people, Bectie in her lap.

"Fralie, you don't understand." Frebec began, putting his hand on her knee. "If they outnumber us again we don't stand a chance."

The outside fire pit area was crowded with all the people of both camps, and the visitors from the Cave Bear Camp. The discussion continued.

"Where would we go?" Tronie asked.

This question brought out a rampant wave of talk and arguments from all angles, the noise level rising until Talut banged the speaking staff hard to the ground three times. As the din quieted, Matera took a step forward to stand beside Talut.

"People, listen. To stay here will mean you are going to be killed." She began. "If you had seen what they did to the Sturgeon Camp we wouldn't even be having this discussion. It was destroyed—everyone was killed. Everyone."

The din grew again, but not quite to the same noise level of before. The arguments against leaving were waning, but still being put forth by some.

"Will we ever be able to come back?" Fralie asked, her high pitched voice carrying easily over the subsiding noise.

"No." Vincavec said, looking directly at her. "Once we go, there is no turning back."

Nezzie sat on the ground at the end of a crowded log, Bralut in her lap. She reached down to play with the son of her daughter, caressing his fat cheeks and tweaking his ear. Bralut giggled, reaching up to grasp at her finger, she toyed with him before allowing him to get hold of it. He tried to pull it down to his mouth, Nezzie grinned at the boys efforts, he was getting so strong.

In her mind, there was only one answer to their predicament, but Nezzie was hesitant to speak up just yet. There was a deep void inside her, an empty hole that even her new grandson hadn't been able to fill. A fat tear rolled down her cheek, it hit Bralut in the forehead. He giggled and hit himself in the nose grabbing at it.

Branag had come to the same conclusion that Nezzie had, though neither of them had ever spoken about it. He also had a hole in his sizable heart, one that would probably never go away. Deegie saw the look on his face, she knew what he was thinking and the thought appealed to her as well.

Never shy about much of anything, Deegie stood up and walked to where Talut and the other leaders stood in front of the fire. She handed Brydag to Tulie, and reached for the speaking staff from Talut. Deegie pounded it to the ground, and took a deep breath before looking out into the sea of familiar faces.

"Leaving this place, our home lands and these lands of our ancestors is not something I think any of us wants to do." She said, her strong voice carrying easily and commanding everyone's attention.

"If we must go, if we have to flee from here in order to live on—to survive, then it must be to a place far away. A place that the northern camps won't know where to look for us. The only place I know that we will not be found, a place that we will never have to go through all this again, is to follow our friends to the 'Land of the Sun'."

The silence that followed Deegie's words was complete.

Nezzie smiled.

So did Branag.

Wymez smiled broader than them both.

Heads nodded, and more than a few in the crowd took a deep breath and started to relax for the first time since this horrific discussion had begun. No one raised any kind of objection, and the relief was evident with the entire crowd, except for a few of them at the fire pit.

"What is this place, and what friends are you referring to?" Vincavec asked, looking as confused as Matera did beside him. This was the second time he had heard this term, but in the excitement of getting the Aurochs Camp all packed up and moving he had never thought to get any kind of explanation.

"Well, it's a long story..." Talut began, grinning broadly.

**********

With the difficult decision made, the evening meal was almost like a small festival. A large piece of mammoth haunch was roasted on the spit and there was an abundance of fresh vegetables, grain cakes, and even a little fruit. It was like a heavy weight had been lifted from them all.

Though a lot of work needed to be done, and done quickly, a lot of visiting and catching up went on during and following the meal. As the women cleaned up, they were all sorting through the dishes and platters in their minds as to which needed to be packed and what they would have leave behind. Nezzie bustled around with a bounce in her step, she couldn't have been happier.

The Aurochs Camp stowed their belongings in the Hearth of the Horses, and most of them stretched out their sleeping furs in there as well. Vincavec and Matera, along with Jozen and Stolie took advantage of the visitor accommodations in the Mammoth Hearth.

Inside the lodge, the process of sorting through belongings had already begun. Piles of goods started forming all over the hearths, and the piles grew. Most of the men stayed outside, discussing all the logistical aspects of taking on such a long journey with so many people. The conversation was lively and the mood was bright and cheerful.

Talut was the ultimate optimist, and his attitude was contagious. He explained that the men of the Lion Camp was almost finished with a new system of crossing the river safely and efficiently on a new raft they had just built, and they could complete the rest of it the next day. This was welcome news, as the men all knew that the river must be crossed soon for them to avoid a much harder crossing as the river grew wider and swifter further downstream. The conversation continued until late into the night.

**********

Two days later, all the preparations were made, they would leave at first light in the morning. Excited tension was high, but most everyone tried to get to bed earlier than usual. The next day would be a hard one, and they all knew it. Even the children were tired and easy to coax to bed early.

Latie walked outside the front entrance of the lodge, Bralut asleep in the crook of her arm. She stopped at the rock mound where Old Mamut was buried. Latie put her hand on top of the mound and a single tear rolled down her cheek. She stood there, silently for a long, quiet moment before stepping back and sitting down to face the rock mound. Bralut wiggled and snuggled closer to her breast, then stilled.

"Mamut, is this what you saw?" Latie began in a soft whisper. "Is this the future that you couldn't explain to me?

"You know if we leave we will never be able to return, are we doing the right thing? Oh, Mamut, I miss you so much. I wish you could see how Bralut is growing, I wish you could have known him.

"Are you watching over us, can you do that from the spirit world?" Latie's tears flowed freely now, her heart ached as it always did when she thought of her mentor.

"I wish I could ask you if we are doing the right thing, it seems right but I just don't know for sure." Latie reached out and put her hand on the rocks, still warm from the sun. "I love you Mamut, I'm trying to do as you told me. You will always be in my heart."

Latie stood up and wiped her tears onto the sleeves of her tunic. She turned to walk back into the lodge, but paused when she got to the mammoth hide entrance. She turned back toward Mamut's grave, then looked up into the starry sky. The bright half moon glowed through a wispy, thin cloud giving it a soft, majestic glow. A shooting star formed from behind the moon and streaked across the sky, dissipating as quickly as it had come.

"Thank you, Mamut." She whispered softly, then turned back around to go into the lodge.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

_**The River and the Steppes**_

Talut stood in the back of the raft, it bobbed up and down in the shallow water, tied to a solid post up on the bank by a pair of braided ropes. The early morning sun was already bright, and the wind gusted lightly off the swift water of the river. Brenan, Danug and Frebec manned long poles at the front of the raft while Talut took three poles that Branag held out to him and laid them out in the center of the raft.

Wymez and Rymar stood ready at the post up on the bank, watching as Branag, Thorec, and Ludeg all stepped out onto the raft, Talut helping them aboard. They untied the ropes at Talut's signal and pulled the raft upriver with the aid of all six men and their poles. Rymar had a heavy coil of braided leather rope on his shoulder, another two coils just like it rested in the center of the raft. A pair of heavy posts with sharpened points at one end and a huge flat rock were also set in the center of the raft, the rock was heavy enough to help stabilize the craft as ballast.

They came to a halt at another heavy post that was driven deep into the dirt, and Rymar walked back over to the raft. Wymez tied the free end of the rope to the post after wrapping it around the top of it several times. Talut took the rest of the rope from Rymar, and the rest of the men pushed the raft out into the river with their poles pushing off the muddy bottom.

The current took hold of the raft gradually at first, then pushed against them harder and more consistently. Talut sat down at the corner of the raft, letting the rope out slowly, controlling their pace and direction. They walked the raft out toward the center of the river in a very controlled fashion, and veered the vessel closer to the heavy trunk that they had set in the center of the river a few days before. When they managed to get the raft into position, Talut wrapped the end of the second coil of rope around the post in the groove near the top, tying it tightly. Then, he wrapped the end of the guide rope that stretched back to the post on shore and tied it off below the first rope.

"Let's go." Talut said, holding the coil in his hand.

They shoved off again, working against the current and moving to the opposite shore. Again, Talut held them steady with the rope, letting it out as they went along slowly, walking the raft cross river with the long poles. The exertion had all the bare chested men dripping with sweat by the time they made it to the far side pf the river.

Brenan and Ludeg hopped out into the knee deep water and waded up the bank. Branag and Danug picked up one of the two heavy poles from the center of the raft and together they tossed it out onto dry ground. They hopped out of the craft and pulled it the rest of the way to the bank. Talut tied off the rope to a corner post of the vessel, then picked up the heavy rock and walked onto dry ground with heavy, cumbersome steps.

Ludeg and Brenan found a good spot, and manhandled the post that was chopped into a point at one end into position on the hard dry ground. Talut approached them and set his feet wide as he lifted the rock up to his chest before smashing it down hard onto the flat top of the post. It went into the ground a little way, and Talut pulled it back up high for another blow.

Danug and Branag unwound the end of the last coil of rope and tied it to the near side post on the raft, and tossed the rest of the rope up on the bank. Frebec hopped out of the raft and picked up the rope, he wrapped it over his shoulder and started pulling the raft back upstream. Branag, Thorec, and Danug helped him along with the push poles.

Brenan and Ludeg stood by and watched Talut drive the post deeper and deeper into the hard black dirt. Sweat dripped off his huge upper body, making his thick red and grey streaked body hair look like tiger stripes. With one last mighty whack, the post was planted securely, and Talut dropped the heavy rock and sat down on the ground.

"Whew, that got heavy!" He said with a loud laugh, his eyes full of sparkling mischief. His huge arms bulged with rippling, well defined muscles.

Brenan and Ludeg couldn't help but to smile at his beaming face, but their expressions soon changed as they picked up the rock between them to carry it upriver for him. It was heavy, bad heavy, and they struggled to walk it through the short grass. Talut laughed again, watching their struggles, then got up and followed them.

By the time they got the second post secured upriver, they were all sweating and in need of a rest. They sat down along the bank, dangling their bare feet in the cool water.

"I wonder how many trips it will take to get us all across?" Ludeg asked.

"With all the stuff that Regan has packed up it may take one trip just for her." Thorec said, smiling inside at the very thought of his new mate. He absolutely adored the dark blonde headed young woman—his mate, that had such a nice sound to it.

"Deegie even wanted to bring the wide flat cooking rock. A rock!" Danug said with a chuckle. "You know who would have had to have carried it." He went on, pointing at his own chest.

"You think she has a lot, you should see all the bundles Nezzie has packed!" Talut added with a hearty laugh.

This got all the tired men tickled, and they all laughed at the oddity of the situation for a while. When it had run its course, they all stared at the slightly muddy water lost in their own thoughts.

"I sure hate leaving this place," Frebec said softly. "I have never really called any place home but here. Everything good in my entire life has happened here at the Lion Camp."

Talut looked over at Frebec, seeing the tear roll down his sweaty cheek. Frebec went on, looking back up at Talut.

"You made me welcome here, Talut. I will never be able to repay you and the rest of the Lion camp for the wonderful home you gave so freely to me and my family."

Talut grinned, this man sure has come a long way, he thought. Now, there is no one in all the Lion Camp that I can count on more than Frebec, life does indeed change.

"You can repay me by getting us back over there." Talut said, grinning as he pointed toward Rymar and Wymez on the other side. Talut saw that a group of men and women were all heavily laden, carrying bundles and walking down the rise to where the two older men sat waiting. The rest of the men saw them too, it was time.

"Well then, let's go." Frebec said, scooting back onto dry ground. The rest of them all followed his lead, and they walked back to the raft carrying their foot coverings in their hands.

They all got situated on the raft, and Frebec untied the short rope that held the raft in place. The men pushed against the poles and Talut fed out rope from the post ashore. The raft floated away from the bank, and out into the calmer waters of the river, they could see the rippling waves in the center where the current was swift.

The water sped up, and it pulled them out toward the center of the river as Talut struggled against the pull of the current to let the rope out slowly. The poles were hardly needed as the river and Talut let them be pulled out to the large trunk in the middle of the river, Brenan and Danug used their poles to steady the raft when they got close. With one last push, Branag reached out and grabbed the top of the post and pulled them up astride it. Talut handed him the end of the long rope, and Branag tied it off and untied the long rope from the other side. He handed it to Talut, and went back over to the other side of the raft.

Brenan and Danug eased off their poles, and the river and Talut took over again. The raft dropped down river and was pulled cross current by the rope on the other side. Talut pulled the rope in hand over hand, and the raft slid across the current smoothly. At the far edge of the strongest part of the swift current, the men all got up and started walking them on across with their long poles.

"That was fast." Danug said, smiling as the raft bumped into the muddy shore. "This is a great idea, who thought this up?"

"Brenan came up with the idea when we had to cross a river on our trek to the Mammoth Camp." Ludeg said, grinning. "The water was cold, it was the end of winter, but not too cold for Brenan to go for a little swim!"

They all laughed at this, except for Brenan. He remembered his cold swim well enough, in fact he would probably never forget that icy cold brush with death. Brenan still had occasional nightmares of the numbing, stabbing pain of the frigid water, fighting for breath and watching the raft float away from him. A spate of chill bumps spread over his sweaty chest and arms. Ah, he remembered, what a welcome sight it was though when I looked up into Latie's bright eyes when they got him back onto the raft. Brenan came back to the present when the raft bumped the bank, they were across.

**********

The pile of bundles and supplies left on the berm was small enough to get it all on one last trip, Talut judged. Good, he thought, I'm really hungry. He turned his head and looked back to the eastern bank of the river. A fire was going and two of the traveling tents were already set up, a third was in process. He could see a large haunch of something sizzling on the spit, his mouth watered.

The raft was almost back to the west bank of the river. Talut had long since lost count of the trips back and forth they had made so far, but the sun was touching the horizon out in front of them as they came up to the shore. Every muscle in his upper body ached from the days work, his arms and chest muscles were particularly sore and tired.

Ludeg hopped out of the raft and tied it up to the post with a short rope, and they all relaxed for a moment before going to work loading up the flat vessel—again. The five men left in raft got off and started passing bundles out onto the raft where Talut piled them up in the center.

Brenan helped them finish up and they all took a break for a little before making the last crossing. It had been a long, hard day, and it wasn't over yet.

**********

"I'm going back up to the camp, I'll be right back." He said and turned to walk up the trail that led up low bluff. His mind wandered as he walked, remembering the first time he had walked up this path. So much has happened since then, he thought.

The last two years played out like a colorful kaleidoscope in his mind. His solo journey cross country in the winter, the tutoring he received from Old Mamut, his budding romance with Latie. So much has taken place in his young life, the terrible visions from the ominous spirit trip, Mamut's death, the hardships and dangers of the trip cross country. Brenan took a deep breath as the memories washed over him when the Lion Camp lodge came into sight in front of him.

What a welcome sight this place was when they had finally made it back here. A sudden vision of the renegades, waking up surrounded and unarmed at the Mammoth Camp. Their stunned and terrified faces as they saw their destiny behind the points of spears held by people with faces that showed no mercy, the screams of the dead and dying.

Brenan walked up to the lodge entrance, bare now of the mammoth hide door flap, and he looked up at the huge cave lion skull with its empty eye sockets staring out blankly. He peered inside at the mostly empty long entrance room. The sight of the abandon lodge made him think back to the Mammoth Camp lodge, now renamed the Cave Bear Camp, that they had all pitched together and built in that wonderful valley so far to the northwest. What a project that had been, but what a magnificent structure they had completed in such a short period of time. Brenan grinned at the memory of his matrimonial that had taken place at the lodge dedication ceremony, what a wonderful day that was.

He continued to reminisce, so many memories, both good and bad, and some absolutely frightening. His matrimonial seclusion that was so very special, at least until the rogue lion had attacked Latie that is. Brenan shivered at the thought of that massive lion and he could again see his spear burying itself so deep into the lions chest. The feeling of relief when he finally went down for the last time, and seeing Latie, injured but alive. Alive and his, his mate, his life partner.

Then on to that horrific summer meeting, so many people, so much discord. The joy of seeing his home camp and his family, getting to introduce Latie to them all as his mate. The pride that his mother and the man of his hearth had shown, and his old teacher Grodec who had been so glad to see him, so glad to find he had survived his long solo journey.

So much has happened, it was hard to believe it all when he thought about it.

Brenan took a quick trip through the lodge, looking for anything of value left behind. It was a sad sight to behold, this warm lodge now so desolate and empty, devoid of people. He stuck his head into the side room, the Hearth of the Horses. I kissed latie here for the first time, he thought with a smile.

He walked back through the lodge, and out the front entrance. Brenan stopped at the burial mound where Old Mamut lay entombed. He sat down cross legged, and reached out to touch the warm stones. There is so much I want to say to you, Mamut, he thought.

"Mamut, I wanted to come back here to say goodbye. Though I know that you are not really here, I thought that your spirit will be close enough to this place that maybe you can hear me." Brenan took a deep, trembling breath before going on.

"I wanted to thank you. To thank you for everything that you taught me, everything that you gave me. Thanks for making me stay here, for making me tell Latie how much I love her. The life I have now would never have been if it weren't for you, I owe you everything, I owe you my life.

"This journey we are going on, I don't know where it will lead us, what all we will face along the way. I do know that you will always be with us, you will be watching over us, protecting us as always. You will always be in my heart, Mamut, and every time I look into little Bralut's eyes, I think of you.

"Thank you, Mamut." Brenan stood up and was surprised to see Talut standing on the other side of the burial mound. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks.

"It's time to go, Brenan."

Brenan reached out and placed his hand one last time on the warm stones, then walked around the cairn. The two men walked back down the trail without looking back, Talut put his arm around Brenan's shoulder, and they walked down the rise to the river below.

**********

Troog put three fresh pieces of wood on the fire and sat down. He had taken the second watch, the first signs of the impending dawn just began to glow on the far eastern horizon. To the south, he could still see the vague motions in the darkness of the three hyenas that had come up to claim the remnants a dead aurochs some large predator had left behind. Troog didn't much care for hyenas, they were too smart and unpredictable. He had spent a good portion of his watch trying to keep an eye on their movement and position, they had a tendency to be sneaky, and sometimes aggressive as well.

Etra came out of the tent with a basket and a water bag in her hands. She approached the fire, shuffling her feet slightly to alert Troog to her presence. Troog looked over his shoulder and watched her come over. She poured the water into the basket and sat down beside the hunter. Etra picked up a pair of bent wooden sticks from the ground next to the fire, they were tied together two thirds of the way up, and she used them to fish out a cooking stone from the glowing embers.

By the time the tea was hot, most of the adults had congregated at the fire. Inca and Aba were busy putting together a first meal from the leftovers from the large meal of the night before. Brug had wandered off on his usual early morning hunting foray.

The Clan were an efficient people, by their very nature they were creatures of habit. The traveling mode they had slipped into was becoming more and more routine, and they approached each new day with a stoic sense of purpose.

**********

Rug looked at the smoldering fire pit, he had tossed loose dirt on top of the low burning flames, and it looked to be safely contained. He observed his Clan, they were all loaded up and ready to go. Rug picked up his end of the long pole, and Troog did the same behind him. He turned to the south and started walking, the Clan formed up behind him.

The Clan moved southeast away from the hyenas and the aurochs carcass, walking toward the point of the steppes where it seemed to end in a valley between two low rising hills. Behind these, more hills were visible for as far as they could see. The first hills had sporadic trees dotting the slopes, short, thick brush grew in wide clumps in small pockets in the tall grass that carpeted the rocky land. With as much detail as they could see, the hills were still at least a full days walk ahead of them.

To the southeast, the pride of cave lions were still bed down under the cover of a lone, thick trunked short tree with wide branches thick with deep green leaves. Rug wanted to get well past them before stopping for the night, cave lions were simply too aggressive for him to dismiss.

**********

The late afternoon sun was hot and what little breeze there was now partially obscured by the hills that stretched out to the southeast. The Clan trudged on, veering toward a pair of trees to the southwest, it looked like a good place to stop for the night.

Rug looked over to Draag, he was starting to show definite signs of tiring now, and the Clan leader didn't want to push him too hard. He had done well the past two days, keeping up and showing no signs of lagging off the steady pace that they had kept. Rug admired the strength and resolve of his injured hunter, though he expected no less from any man in his Clan. Toward the end of the days walk, his limp became a little more pronounced, as it was right now.

Mog-ur was glad the long day was ending, his shoulders were sore from carrying his half of the heavily laden pole. I'm not getting any younger, he thought, lifting the pole off his right shoulder and transferring it to the left side. He was very pleased with the progress thus far, but he had a feeling that the passage through the hills would likely slow them down some. He wondered how far they had veered away from the river, water was getting a little harder to find. Perhaps they would get a better feel for the lay of the land when they got into the hills, he thought as he walked. There were usually creeks in the valleys, and this thought eased his mind for the moment.

According to what Lud-dag had told them, they should come back onto the river on the far side of the range of wooded hills. 'Many days walk', he had told them. Mog-ur contemplated this, wishing he had pressed Lud-dag into putting 'many days walk' into the counting words. Oh well, he thought to himself, what did it really matter anyway. This journey would be full of unknowns, there was nothing he could do about it, why waste time worrying about things one can do nothing about?

**********

The first sign of trouble began just as Troog came out of the tent to relieve Crag of his watch. Crag had heard something to the northeast, but had been unable to see what lay beyond in the darkness. Troog found him just outside the light of the fire, staring out into the blackness of the steppes to the southeast. By his posture, Troog knew that the hunter was listening for something, and he quietly made his way up to him. The men stood a spears length apart, quietly searching the still night for any further sound. Both men had one spear at the ready, and three more in scabbards across their wide backs.

A soft rustling in the grass shifted their attention more to the east, both men wondering if it was the soft gusting of the wind, or something else. To the northwest behind them an aurochs bawled out in the night, the sound came from a long distance away, but it made them look that direction anyway. The sound was a distraction that prevented either men from hearing the soft, rapid footfalls from the northeast at first.

"Unngh." Troog grunted, and turned toward the encroaching sounds to their right side.

Suddenly it was all made clear, the soft grunting of a cave lioness was a sound any hunter could easily identify. She was coming fast, and though neither had caught any glimpse of her yet, both men lifted their spears high and adjusted quickly to the soft sounds. Just as she was close enough to see as a moving blur in the darkness, another sound got their attention from the east. Another approaching lioness, another trail of soft sounds in the darkness.

Crag motioned for Troog to keep his attention on the first sounds, while he turned to face the new sounds from the east. He blanched as the sounds seemed to split, there were at least two of them coming at him.

Troog fire off the first spear at a fast moving blurry shape that was suddenly much closer to him than he was really prepared for. The scream of the large cat was the only indication Troog needed to know that he had at least hit her.

The scream of the lioness also triggered a two forked attack from the east. Both cats came straight ahead at a full run right at Crag. He threw his spear at the first movement he saw, and had another spear high and ready in an instant. Crag knew that the first spear had missed, but he waited to get a better view of a target before letting go with another throw.

Rug and Borg lumbered out of the tent with spears in each hand shortly after hearing the first scream of the lion, they searched the area illuminated softly by the fire and then hurried to the aid of their hunters.

Troog fired off another spear, another scream, much closer this time.

Crag got a good glimpse of a large blurry shape and let loose again, this time he heard the grunt of a cat as the spear hit her. Then as he reached to pull another spear from the scabbard he heard the sounds, too close. Much too close. Crag ducked down and was hit broadside by a full grown lioness in mid leap. He rolled to the ground with the impact of the blow, feeling the claws raking his back and shoulders. Crag lifted his hands up high, trying to keep the cat off his head as he felt her teeth bite down into the center of his left forearm. He screamed out in pain.

Troog heard her approach, and turned to Crag and readied his spear, when he hit the ground, Troog stepped up and thrust it into the cat just under her shoulder. She let loose of her grip on Crag, and she snapped at the spear shaft that impaled her. Suddenly Rug was there, thrusting his own spear deep into the lions neck. She lost her grip on Crag, and he rolled away from her while the cat tried to bite and pull at the spears with her claws. Borg grabbed Crag by the arm and dragged him a few steps away from the melee.

More thrashing sounds from nearby in the grass, Borg and Troog got together and walked toward the sounds cautiously to investigate. Rug dropped to the ground beside Crag, even in the darkness the massive blood loss from his arm was obvious. Rug reached down and helped Crag to his feet, walking him back toward the fire.

Borg pointed with his spear point to a writhing lump in the grass. Troog nodded and stood back with his spear high as Borg hurled his spear in the darkness. The animal grunted and screeched as the spear hit it, and Borg pulled his last spear up and into position.

Etra was already outside the tent with her medicine bag in hand when Rug and Crag approached the fire. Mog-ur was beside her, and rushed to help Crag sit down in the light. Brug stood guard with his short spear ready at the edge of the light of the fire, his young eyes hard and fixed with concentration.

Troog grabbed two sticks from the firewood pile, and stuck them into the flames. The thin, dead wood caught quickly, and he turned to go back to Borg and Troog. With the crude torches, the three men examined the bodies of the three lions, they were all dead. They gathered their spears, and dragged the first lioness back to camp, with Rug staying behind them as a rear guard.

Mog-ur stood over Crag, making the sacred signs as he looked up to the heavens. He invoked the power of the oldest of the Clan spirits, pleading silently with them to assist Etra in her efforts to save the Clan hunter.

Etra motioned for Inca to get a basket of water boiling with one hand. She held pressure on the bleeding arm with the other. Opening the medicine bag, she pulled out a sharp, thin flint blade and cut the seems of the sleeve of Crags tunic. It fell away, exposing the deep teeth marks. Blood spurted out of the two deepest of the wounds, and seeped out of the others. Etra dumped the contents of her medicine bag onto the dirt, and motioned for Mog-ur to help. She showed him where and how to hold pressure to slow the bleeding, and as soon as he got a good grip, she rummaged through the small leather packets with both hands.

Inca dropped two cooking stones into the basket of water with a hiss. She reached out for another stone with the sticks.

Etra untied the knot and opened the fat packet and dumped a sizeable amount of powder into the palm of her hand. She took hold of Crags arm, and touched Mog-ur's right hand with her finger, he let go and she shook the powder directly on the wound. Crag's muscles flexed involuntarily at her ministrations. Etra pressed the powder into the wound, pushing it deeper and deeper with her fingers. The tooth mark slowly stopped spewing blood in spurts, and started oozing instead as the powder started the clotting process at the bottom of the wound. She quickly went to work on the second wound.

Crag watched every move that Etra made. The pain was something that he could deal with mentally, and the obvious skill that the new medicine woman possessed intrigued him. Crag had been a hunter for a long, long time. He had seen and experienced directly many hunting accidents and injuries. Crag started feeling a little light headed, but he paid attention to Etra as she started working over the second deep tooth mark. This woman is skilled, he thought with satisfaction. A wave of pain and nausea washed over him and he fought it with his powerful will, a man doesn't show pain, he reminded himself.

Mog-ur sat back, his hands bloody and sticky, watching Etra work. Troog and Borg dragged another dead lion up to the edge of the firelight. They turned and went back to the east, and out of the light.

To the south, well past the hill that lay out in front of them, a single wolf howled. His ringing wolf song rang out across the steppes, echoing slightly through the hills.

**********

No one in the Clan got much sleep the rest of the night, except for Crag. Etra gave him a pain killing potion that put him out in short order. The men stood guard in pairs on the perimeters around three additional fires. Inca and Etra skinned out the three lions and harvested their teeth and claws. Brug stood over Crag throughout the rest of the night, guarding his teacher as he slept with his spear firmly in his strong hands.

**********

The first thing that Rug and Troog saw as the sun came up was the large male lion. He sat in the grass out in front of them, staring up at the camp. Three smaller adolescent lions flanked him. Rug wasn't at all sure of what to do next, the mere presence of the lions presented them with yet another threat.

'Get "Mog-ur." Rug told Troog, who nodded and backed away slowly.

Rug stared at the magnificent lion, his mane was full and shaggy and his chest rippled with muscle. Won't you just go away, he thought to himself, is it necessary for this to be a battle to the death?

Mog-ur walked up beside Rug, and looked out at the lions. This is not usual lion behavior, he thought. The lion lifted his head slightly and looked at the Mog-ur, and Mog-ur felt as though he was making direct eye contact with the beast. Mog-ur concentrated on the lion's eyes, trying to feel the thoughts emanating from the powerful animal. He felt something, it was brief—then it was gone.

The male lion stood up and grunted, slowly building up to a full roar that shook the ground and gave both men instant chill bumps. The young lions cowed down beside him, lowering their heads until the sound began to fade away. When he was finished, he turned and trotted off through the grass back onto the steppes without a backwards glance, the young lions in tow at a respectable distance behind him.

Mog-ur watched them go, holding his amulet in his right hand. The ways of Ursus are hard, he thought.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

_**The Steppes, Leaving Home **_

Rug stood with Mog-ur at the eastern edge of the camp. They could see the male lion sitting on his haunches facing them under the wide, short tree in the distance. The younger lions explored the clumps of tall grass a little to the north, pouncing on the strands of grass that moved in the breeze—and each other. The morning sun was already in full force, the heat rising off the ground in gentle, shimmering waves.

'Do we go on, or give "Crag" a day to rest?' Rug asked.

Mog-ur thought about this for a while, his mind had been on the lions. He had never known for lions to attack without provocation before, and was searching his memories for any evidence that this was not an unheard of occurrence. Mog-ur shifted his train of thought, and looked up at the slightly taller Clan leader. The Clan had not gotten much sleep, but he didn't like the idea of staying here for another night either.

'We will go on, but it would be best not to make a full day of it. "Crag" should be able to keep up, let's get over the first rise and into the hills. We need to find fresh water.'

Rug nodded and walked back over to the fire, the Clan saw the look on his face and gathered around him. He told them to pack up, and saw that Crag seemed to expect them to go on. This gave Rug a good feeling inside, the hunt leader would not complain, it was not in his nature.

Mog-ur stared at the lion, the beast seemed to be returning his stare in kind. He had found no memory of an unwarranted lion attack, except by a rogue—but never by a pack of hunting females. It's just as well, he thought to himself, just another odd event in this land of Ursus.

A large hawk soared over the lion's tree, a limp rabbit dangling from his talons as he flapped steadily to maintain his altitude against the wind. The lion didn't seem to notice.

By the time Mog-ur turned away from the lion, the Clan had broken camp and was almost ready to move on. Crag stood next to the back end of a pole with a loaded hanging skin already tied up and ready to go. The bandages on his arm stood out, contrasting against his tanned body. His bare back and shoulders were lined with long scabs from the mauling he had gotten from the lion.

Draag pulled his large, cumbersome back pack off the ground and slung it over his shoulders. He still favored his leg somewhat, but it did not impede him substantially as he pulled his left arm through the harness and he squared his broad shoulders to settle the pack into place. The scabbard of spears were next, and he pulled the spear tips into position across his back.

Mog-ur picked up his own pack and then walked up behind Rug, and took his place at the back of the second pole. They picked it up and placed the heavy pole onto their shoulders and started off.

**********

The green valley below them was lush with two different types of short and tall deep green grass. There were more trees and clumps of brush down below than there had been on the long sloping hillside, and the Clan stopped for a moment to bask in the light breeze at the crest of the rise. The sun was well past the top of the sky, and beat down on them without mercy. It had been hot all day, but the wind had picked up as they traversed the first hill that led them away from the flat ground of the steppes.

At the bottom of the valley, a small creek appeared from behind a rocky outcrop and wound its way like a snake through the bottoms. A small pool formed to the southwest at what looked to be a beaver dam. Three saiga antelope watered at the far southern edge of the small pond under the low hanging branches of a willow. They saw the Clan, and scampered away through the brush. The water looked particularly inviting.

Rug looked over the valley, then started walking down the slope toward the pool. The Clan formed up and followed him down the gentle grassy slope.

The walk down the incline was so much easier than the long climb up that the Clan made good time. The welcome sight of fresh water increased their pace without them being aware of it. Draag got into the habit of walking a bit sideways to put less pressure on his leg, the cast was heavy and clumsy on the slick grass of the slope. By the time they were about halfway down, he had gotten used to walking this way and kept up with the others, though at the back of the pack.

A spotted deer jumped out from behind a wide, berry covered bush to their left side. She had been bed down in the shade, and ran away over the top of the hill to the northeast.

Brug watched her, wishing she had been closer. The boy never stopped hunting.

**********

Two fat beavers roasted on the spit, Brug and Troog had shown their usual, efficient hunting skills. Most of the Clan sat around the fire in the short grass nude drying in the sun, having enjoyed the cool waters of the pool to bathe.

Brug gathered dead fall and had a good size pile going. He wore only his leggings, and kept a single spear with him, he was never without at least one weapon.

Inca, Ova, and little Ooga explored the banks of the pond for fresh greens. Ooga had a hand full of yellow and pink flowers, and picked more as they wandered around. The basket that Inca carried was almost half full, and she and Ova came across a small patch of onions growing right down to the edge of the water. This would fill the rest of the basket easily.

Etra removed the bandage on Crag's arm, pleased that the wrap showed only minimum signs of any fresh blood. The forearm was purple and blue from the deep bruising, but the bites were scabbed over pretty well. A little seepage from the deepest bite was all there was, and it had probably started only when he had gotten it wet bathing in the pond.

'I will put a new bandage on the arm tomorrow before we leave.' She began signing, a satisfied look on her face. 'Be easy with the arm until then.'

Crag nodded, pleased at the results of her ministrations. The arm was sore, really sore, but that was to be expected. His shoulders and back had long steaks of scabbed over claw marks, but the pain from them was minor.

Etra went to Draag next, she had helped him to bathe earlier. She gave him a cup of medicinal tea with some ground datura in it to help ease his pain, and he sipped on it as she felt around on the leather wrapped leg. Draag was unable to get into the pool, the cast would not have stood up well being fully immersed in the water. Etra had helped him to wash, and she and Aba had even washed his thick mane of dark brown hair and slightly reddish beard. Draag felt remarkably refreshed, and he looked up at her as Etra signed to him.

'Cast looks good, how does the leg feel?'

'Leg is good, it just gets tired at the end of the day.'

Etra nodded at him, then stood up to leave and tend the beaver. Draag lay back on the grass, looking up at the clear blue sky. Droplets of water still clung to the hair on his chest. The smell of the roasting beaver made his stomach growl. It had been a hard last few days, but he was satisfied that he had been able to keep up and not slow the rest of them down too much. The throbbing ache in the leg began to dissipate as the effects of the pain medicine started to kick in, and he closed his eyes to nap.

**********

Rug and Crag took the first watch. They had built two additional perimeter fires for safety, and Mog-ur had suggested that they would be better off with two guards at a time. Crag felt so much better after the bath and the hot meal, and the special tea that Etra had given him that he actually looked forward to the peaceful quiet of guard duty.

The night was cool with a light, sometimes gusting breeze and a clear sky full of twinkling stars with a half moon shining brightly above them. It was quiet in the valley, and the two men heard a lot of soft animal sounds as they moved around in the darkness. The pond was a popular watering hole, though they could rarely catch little more than a glimpse of the shapes of the movement to accompany the soft sounds.

Wolves howled to the south, their songs strangely distorted through the hills and valleys. The hoots of an owl kept them company from somewhere up the rise to the southwest. Insects droned, and both men felt the occasional bites of mosquitos when the wind was light.

**********

Near dawn, the entire camp was awakened by the not too distant roar of a cave lion that echoed through the valley from the steppes behind them to the north. Troog and Borg were on watch at the time, and they hustled to quickly feed the three fires with fresh wood. The hunters on watch kept their vigil, and the rest of the camp worked on getting a little more sleep before daybreak. Ooga succeeded, though she was the only one who did.

**********

"...the chances of actually catching up to them is probably pretty remote." Talut was saying. "They have too much of a head start on us, they left here over a full moon ago."

Talut's words put a lull in the discussion. A large group all sat around the fire on the ground on the far side of the river, sipping tea. The sky was dark and full of stars, and most of the travelers were turning in early from the hard day toting heavy bundles of belongings and crossing the river.

"With as many of us as there are, we will not cover nearly as much ground as they can anyway." Branag said, looking up at Talut. "When we traveled home with them they kept up with us with very little effort even though their Mog-ur was injured. After just a few days, even he kept up well."

"They are a strong, determined bunch all right, never a word---or sign---of complaint." Tulie added with a grin.

"They really only talk with their hands?" Vincavec asked, Matera sat next to him listening in with interest.

"I had no idea they could talk at all." Matera said softly, still finding all that they had heard about the Clan hard to believe. She thought back to the sickly half Clan boy Rydag, it was true that he could make that wolf do his bidding, but he couldn't talk. At least not in the conventional way, maybe there is more to these Clan people than she had ever considered. Matera almost laughed to herself, and I believed all the talk of them being nothing more than clever animals without even questioning it for so long.

"Oh they talk all right." Branag said. "Get their hunters into a discussion about hunting and they will go on for hours."

Tulie laughed, remembering the long talks they had after every single hunt, dissecting every single aspect of what went well, and what could have been improved on next time out. The memory of the hunters of the Clan learning how to use the throwing spears, practicing for hours on end, even in the rain. They are a dedicated bunch, she thought, about everything.

"How far south will we go?" Vincavec asked.

"All the way to the sea, then we will turn southeast." Wymez answered, then paused before going on. "The sea turns slowly back to the south in a long arc, and we will follow the shoreline for a long time. Several cycles of the moon will pass before we reach the northern end of where the Land of the Sun really begins."

"Where will we go from there?" Matera asked, wondering what it would be like to travel while being heavy with child.

Wymez chuckled, then made a sign with his right hand. 'Wherever you like.'

Talut and Tulie laughed aloud. Branag, Brenan, and Ludeg just grinned.

Latie smiled and signed back to Wymez. 'Wherever Ursus decides.'

'To find the first son of my hearth.' Branag signed, Deegie was almost the only one that saw it, and the she couldn't help but to notice the sad look on her mates face. She had seen the occasional twinges of sadness in Branag ever since the Clan had left. Though Deegie was not all that enthusiastic about leaving their home, she held out hope that they would be reunited with the Clan, if only for Branag's sake.

Nezzie got up and walked back over to where some of the other women stood around talking and re-packing some of their stuff. She had seen the subtle signs that Branag had made, and her heart ached at the memory of the little Clan girl, Ooga. We have to meet up with the Clan, she thought, we just have to. A single tear dropped off her chin.

Vincavec got a little red in the face, he wasn't used to sitting in the middle of a group of people and not being able to understand what was being said. He was still awed by the fact that there was a mode of accurate communication without spoken words. Talut and some of the Lion and Aurochs Camp members had used some of these signs last summer during a couple of different hunting forays. Vincavec wished he had paid more attention to it back then, but they had been so busy building the lodge.

Matera squeezed his thigh affectionately and grinned. She recognized the signs as language now, remembering back to the beauty that Ayla had shown when she had performed the funeral ceremony for Rydag. How extraordinary, she thought to herself, wanting to know more.

"So what did you just say?" Vincavec asked...

**********

Talut stepped between the two long, curved limbs with a stout cross member tied securely across the front ends. Made from long, thick as his wrist willow limbs, the wood flexed slightly as he took a trial few steps forward. A wide bison skin was tied between the poles behind him, loaded with bundles of belongings in the sagging pouch the heavy hide created. Two more cross members held the distance between the poles firmly. The heavy contraption slid forward fairly easily after a bumpy start as Talut walked forward. Most of the weight of within the bison skin was on the curved ends of the willow limbs at the rear.

"You know that the pole drag was meant to be pulled by two people, you don't have to show us all how strong you are." Brenan said with a sly grin, watching the incredible strength of the large man as he man handled the pole drag with relative ease.

Talut grinned, his huge biceps rippling and bulging under the strain. "This is such a good method of moving supplies, why didn't we think of this sooner?"

"It would be better if we had a horse or two to pull it for us." Deegie said, watching Talut while she breast fed Brydag.

Branag cringed standing off to her right side, having promised his mate that he would capture a pony or two for her one day, but had yet to deliver on this promise. Of course, Branag hadn't seen the events of the past winter and summer coming and had not had much of an opportunity to try and fulfill her request. Being gone throughout the spring season, he had missed out on the opportunity to try and capture any newborns this year. His mate had never shown such desire before, except, of course, to start his fledgling family. Horses, he thought, I wonder if there are horses in the Land of the Sun? Still, he felt a little guilty.

**********

In all, they had built three pole drags. With the huge amount of supplies and belongings they had amassed between the two full camps and the lightly supplied four individuals from the Cave Bear Camp, there was still a lot left to carry. Two poles with hanging skins were set up as well, and every adult and even the older children had a back pack.

Ludeg and Wymez led them away from the river. The long line of people strung out behind them in loose groups. Tulie joined Frebec on one of the pole drags, Talut and Ranec took another, and Branag and Thorec took the third. The two sling poles were manned by Vincavec, Jozen, Salen, and Gralon. The rest fell in around and between those hauling the bulk of their goods. Brenan and Druwez made up the rear guard.

It was a large group. There were a total of thirty six adults, fourteen children, two newborns, and Druwez who was on the verge of manhood and didn't quite fit in any of the other categories. It made for quite a caravan, the younger children ran around expending energy that they would wish they had back later in the day.

Brenan asked for Druwez to join him at the rear, he understood the awkward age that Druwez was stuck in and wanted to include the young man whenever he could. Druwez may be young, Brenan thought, but he was already more of a man than he is getting credit for. He looked at the tall youngster walking beside him and noticed the faint fuzz of his first bit of facial hair softening the profile of his chin. Brenan liked the boy, who seemed to be almost like the little brother that he had never had.

The sun grew steadily in its intensity as the morning wore on, beating down on them with little mercy. It was a hot day, and the light breeze that blew in off the steppes wasn't very cool at all. Water bags got a lot of heavy use, and most of the travelers doffed their tunics at the first rest stop. Red, tender skin glowed from more than a few people, especially among the women and children.

They left the safety and comfort of the river, moving on a more southerly heading into the grasses of the steppes. The river turned back to the west for a little way before bending back to the south on further down, they would meet up with the waterway again in a few days. The edges of the steppes were dotted with short trees and wide clumps of brush that dissipated behind them somewhat as they ventured out into the flat ground. Herds of grazing animals were visible to the east and southeast, singles and pairs spotted the gaps between the herds.

The steppes were alive with slow moving activity. Predators and prey coexisting on the broad flats in an odd but usually peaceful harmony. The Mother's dance of life played out before them.

Brenan and Tressie fixed up some soothing skin lotion when they stopped to eat and rest, and treated all those with sunburns. Vincavec and Matera got together and made a light colored paste to smooth over shoulders, backs, and arms to help slow the harsh effects of the sun.

Talut and Tulie sat together in the short grass relaxing. They watched the healers working with tired, but satisfied looks on their faces. There was a lot of healing talent and knowledge represented by these four individuals. Talut and Tulie both took comfort in knowing that they could count on these learned healers on this long trek that lay before them all. So far to go, and there were so many of them. Neither of them could help but to be concerned about it all, as leaders, this was just their nature.

**********

It was still mid afternoon when they called a halt for the day. Everyone was tired, it would take a while for the majority of them to get into some kind of reasonable traveling shape. Sunburns were plentiful and painful, and all four healers went to work on the uncomfortable, sore travelers. Traveling tents were set up facing each other, between them a large fire was built in a wide circle of rocks. The camp was a hive of slow moving activity, but with so many helping hands, things got done rather quickly. Piles of dried dung and twigs were gathered and placed near the main fire. Three perimeter fire pits were set up and provisioned, but not lit.

The efficiency shown in making this first camp was awkward and confused at times. It would take some practice and a little time before the newness of the situation wore off and things settled into a new routine.

Nezzie, Tessie, and Jaycie set up a hanging skin over a tripod to get a stew going. Marsie and Silvie cleaned and prepared vegetables pulled from one of the food bundles off one of the pole drags. Ludeg and Wymez walked out from the camp and scouted around, looking over their immediate surroundings.

Babies and small children were cared for and tended to, and the camp gradually settled in for the night. Emotions ran the full gamut, from the sadness of leaving their homes to the excitement of their quest for a new home and the long adventure that lay before them. Overall, the general mood of the camp was slightly subdued, the unknown future intimidating.

**********

Branag walked the perimeter, lighting the fires with Brenan, Druwez, and Jozen who would take the first watch of the night. The sun was slipping out of sight and darkness crept in began to envelope them as the temperature finally began to fall in earnest. The night sounds of the steppes began slowly with the yipping of wolf packs to the east and south. Songbirds from all around the camp sang in the twilight.

Many of the male adults made fur pallets outside the confines of the two tents, preferring to sleep out under the open sky. The younger children and babies already slept, worn out from the hard first day's travel. Most of the younger mothers finished up their tasks quickly, tired as well.

By the time the clear sky began to fill with stars, few were left awake. The first day of their long journey was finally over.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

_**Hills and Strangers**_

Brug hurried over the crest of the hill and started back down the slope, careful of his footing in the damp, slick grass. The early morning sun made the hilltop behind him glow with the first light of the new day. He had a young saiga antelope slung over his wide shoulders and held its tied together hooves across his belly with his right hand, his left hand tightly clutched the spear whose business end and faceted flint point was dark with blood.

The young man of the Clan was in a hurry. He was late to return to camp, and he didn't want to anger Rug for being gone so long. Getting into position around the back side of the small band of antelopes had taken a lot longer than he had thought it would. Surely the reward for his stealth would keep him out of trouble, Brug really didn't want to lose the hunting privileges that he had been afforded thus far on the journey. He quickened his steps.

The antelope was heavy and cumbersome for such a small young man, as stout as he already was, and his balance suffered from the additional weight. His right foot started to slide out from under him as he skirted a low cedar tree on the right side. Brug's left foot lost grip as well and he careened sideways down the slope, a spindly branch of the cedar catching his left arm as he passed and caused him to begin to go into a slow spin. The weight of the antelope had his center of gravity concentrated way too high, and the young hunter's feet went on out from under him. He hit the ground hard on his butt and rocked over backwards onto his lower back, and continued to slide down the slick hillside.

Digging his heels into the soft grass slowed his spin, and he slid to a stop on a narrow flat ridge of weeds and loose gravel in front of a wide patch of short briars full of thorns and small pink flowers. His leggings and the bottom of his tunic were soaked through to the skin from just above his waist down on his back side from the early morning dew that clung to the blades of grass.

Brug grunted as he stood back up, struggling a little against the added weight on his shoulders. He could see the smoke from the camp fire through a gap in the trees and bushes, and started on down the slope, slowly and more carefully this time.

**********

Etra meticulously examined Crag's forearm, the wounds had completely scabbed over and the bright redness was fading into a softer pink around the scratches. She smeared a thin layer of warm yellow paste over the wounds and rubbed it into the skin softly with her bare hands. Etra felt Crag's arm flex as she worked, the older hunter would never complain about the pain involved with her ministrations, but it was obvious that the arm was still very sore and tender.

Crag watched the medicine woman work. She wrapped the arm with a wide piece of de-haired rabbit skin soaked in some yellow, milky liquid with all the excess fluid squeezed out. The skin was warm and damp, and Etra pulled it tight and wound it two layers deep around his forearm. She then tied three narrow straps around the skin to hold it in place.

Etra handed Crag a steaming cup of medicinal tea from the ground at her side, sweetened with raspberry leaves. She then got up and went over to Draag who sat nearby on the ground next to the Mog-ur. Etra knelt in front of him, picking up the heavy leg and examined his wrapped cast. She questioned him on how it felt in general and how much pain it caused when walking.

'Some pain, not too much.' He signed in answer, and went on. 'Leg tires when sun gets low.'

Etra nodded, and set the leg back gently to the ground from where she had it in her lap. The bottom of the cast was starting to crack at the top of his ankle from the heavy strains put on it from walking. She walked back over to the fire, and began rummaging through her medicine pouch. The other women were all busy fussing over plates and platters, preparing the first meal of the day.

Draag took the cup of hot tea mixture from Etra, who waited patiently while he drank it down. She took the cup and went back to clean her medicine bowls and re-pack her medicine bag and back pack. By the time she had finished, the women were beginning to fill the plates with some of the warmed over food from the night before.

Rug stood at the edge of the camp, looking south up and down the wooded hillsides. No sign of him yet. Brug should have been back by now, he thought, and he isn't supposed to get far out of sight of the camp. He was only a little bit worried, the young boy took very few unnecessary chances and was a very careful hunter, but this was unfamiliar country and anything could happen. Maybe I should go with him on his morning hunts from now on, he was thinking, just to be safe.

Mog-ur watched Rug as he began to pace the perimeter of the camp. This man is a good leader, he thought, always concerned with every single Clan member. Mog-ur was also getting a little worried about Brug, he should have been back long before now. The morning meal was being served, he was usually back in time to add fresh meat to the first meal.

Aba handed Mog-ur a cup of morning tea and a platter of warmed leftovers. He took it and grunted, setting the cup on the ground beside him and the platter in his lap. She looked back over to where Rug still stood, searching for her son, Brug. Aba knew that the Clan leader would not eat until all his camp members were here and accounted for, he never did.

**********

Brug walked on down the hillside, through a wide clump of evergreens. When he reached the far side of the trees, he could see glimpses of the camp through the breaks in the tops of the highest limbs down on below near to the pool at the bottom of the hill. He was over half way down the slope now, and the antelope was starting to get heavier as he walked.

A lynx broke from the patch of low bushes in front of him, taking two steps out into the open and snarling at the boy. Brug froze in his tracks, staring at the wild cat with his magnificent pointed ears.

The lynx snarled again, and crouched down in the short grass. He eyed the boy and the tasty antelope, baring his long, sharp teeth.

Brug snarled back at the lynx, and shifted his spear to his right hand. They stared at each other for the longest moment, neither doing anything during the face off. Brug bared his own teeth and snarled again, feeling the pounding of his own heart.

The lynx backed off a step and cocked his head, looking a little bewildered. He turned abruptly to his right and bounded off through the trees beyond without a backwards glance. The cat was out of sight in no time, swallowed completely by the hillside.

Brug took a deep breath to steady his trembling hands, and started back around the brush and on downhill again. He loosened this grip on his spear, and reached back to make sure that his other spears were properly positioned across his back. The antelope hung over his scabbard, trapping his spears against his back and he knew that having quick access to the rest of his weapons was impeded. He would have ask Rug how to remedy this obstruction, he hadn't been able to figure this problem out on his own.

Clearing the next small group of trees, he saw Rug standing away from the camp in the bottom of the valley, looking up toward him. He stopped and waved his arm, and Rug made a greatly exaggerated sign that meant, 'Get down here.'

Brug couldn't have agreed more, and picked up his pace.

**********

Etra had a plate ready for both Rug and Brug, and felt relieved when Rug crossed the narrow creek and went up the slope. The look on his face told her that Brug was on his way back, and none of the bad things that could have happened to the boy had happened at all. Ever since becoming a medicine woman, she had come to think that the health and well being of the entire Clan was her personal responsibility.

Aba sat picking at her food, watching Rug also. Her heart fluttered when the Clan leader started across the creek and trotted up the hillside. It was still a bit hard on her when Brug went out hunting by himself. Though he wasn't too terribly far away from becoming an adult, in her heart he was still just her little boy. Aba was proud of all the things Brug had accomplished, and of how the real hunters of the Clan treated her only son. They didn't treat him like a child really, but they gave him more of the respect that they would give any young hunter. She hoped the child she carried was another boy, just like Brug.

**********

Rug carried the antelope when they walked into camp side by side. Most of the Clan were finished or just finishing their first meal, and Troog and Borg both got up to take the animal from Rug.

Their was a sudden flurry of signing, and Rug stopped and held his hand up to get the Clan's attention. Hands went limp, and all eyes were on Rug in an instant.

'Brug has seen something over the far side of the hill.' Rug signed, then pulled the antelope off his shoulder and set him on the ground. He tapped Brug's shoulder, and the boy looked up into his eyes. Rug nodded, and Brug took a step forward and addressed the Clan.

'I saw the smoke from a camp fire over the top of the next hill over.' Brug paused, then went on. 'I did not reveal my presence to them, they should not be aware of us.'

The camp was silent and still. The implications of any people, any strangers close by were far reaching. Was it people of the Others, or people of the Clan? This question ran through all their minds in various levels of importance.

Rug looked to Mog-ur, their eyes locked. Mog-ur nodded slightly, and Rug turned his attention to Troog and Borg.

'Get your weapons and come with me.' Rug signed to the two men, then turned back to the Mog-ur. 'We will see who it is, then return here.'

Mog-ur nodded, then made a sign. 'Walk with Ursus.'

**********

Rug reached out and quietly pulled the top of the bush apart in front of him. Borg and Troog both knelt a few steps behind him, watching his every move. Rug peered through the thickly bunched leaves, he stood up a little taller and looked down off the top of the hill into the valley below. He spotted the camp site, but is was abandon, dirt had been scattered over the fire to put it out. It took too long to get here, he surmised, which way did they go?

He stood up completely, and walked around the bush, motioning for his hunters to join him. From the clearing at the top of the hill, he looked first to his left, and then to his right hoping to find any evidence as to which way they had gone.

"Hnghh." Troog grunted, pointing off to the northeast.

They all focused to where he pointed, and saw a faint movement between the trees that flanked the small creek at the bottom of the valley. They caught occasional glimpses of several men moving quickly in line, but without getting a better look at them that was about all they could gather.

'I can't tell who they are.' Troog signed, and Borg nodded, he couldn't either.

'Let's get to the end of this valley, and see if we can get a better look at them over the ridge there.' Rug signed, then turned to head back down the slope at an angle to the east. Troog and Borg followed closely on his heels.

**********

'They are "Clan". Rug signed with a whisper of the spoken word. He lay on his side, looking over the top of the rise. The top and slope on this side of the fading hill was pretty bare of anything but grass. Troog and Borg crawled up beside him and watched, what they saw surprised them.

The other side of the hill was pretty bare also, and seven men and four women of the Clan trotted along in a single file line along the bank of the rapidly diminishing creek. The women carried small skin bundles over their shoulders that bounced along as they went. The men were not carrying anything but their spears, though they all had their upper body wraps slung over their backs as they all went bare chested.

It was a traveling band of the Clan, it appeared to be a long range hunting party.

**********

'Go back,' Rug signed to Troog. 'Tell the others we will meet with this "Clan", bring back "Mog-ur".

Troog took a long last look at the traveling band, then nodded and slipped back off the rise. He took off at a fast trot through the valley without looking back.

Rug stood up and cupped his hands on each side of his mouth, then shouted out as loudly as he could. "Uuuursus!"

Borg stood up beside him and lifted his long throwing spear up and waved it back and forth. Rug did the same beside him.

Across the shallow valley, one of the women near the back of the line slowed at the sound, and looked in their direction. The single hunter that brought up the rear slowed when she came to a stop and her eyes went wide and she pointed to the northwest. The hunter was instantly agitated, and looked back to where the woman was pointing. His agitation grew, and he called out and the line of travelers slowed to a stop.

The hunt leader made his way back through the others and stopped at the rear with the man who served as rear guard. He looked to the direction that the others were all focused on, and was startled to see the two men who waved spears to get their attention. The leader knew by the shape of their bodies and faces that they were his own kind, but they appeared strangely different somehow. He studied them closely, seeing more than a few distinct oddities. He didn't like what he saw, not at all.

'Those men have spears with points made of flint, they may not be "Clan". He signed to the hunter of the rear guard after staring at the strangers for a long moment. He clenched his hand around the shaft of his spear nervously.

The man of the rear guard saw the hunt leader's signs from the corner of his eye, and wondered about the strangeness of it all. These people looked—most un-Clan like—they looked almost like the Others. The distress he felt showed over the hard look and firmly set jaw of his face. His hands shook slightly with his distress and confusion.

Rug and Borg started toward them, trotting along at a slow measured pace that was normally used in crossing vast distances to hunt. They did not want to appear threatening in any way, and this would surely arouse no undue suspicion. Surely.

An obviously older Clan hunter made his way slowly back to the rear of the line and sided up to the hunt leader, squinting to the southwest at the two approaching men. He had greying hair and a long, completely grey, pointed beard that hung down to the top of his chest. His body was scarred and even the downy layer of hair that covered much of him was grey, but his arms and chest rippled with the strength of the hunter that he was.

The older man stared hard at the two men for a moment longer, then nudged the hunt leader with his elbow. He looked up at the taller man and began.

'They are dressed oddly, are you sure they are "Clan"? He signed with one hand, his jerky signs gave away his irritation at this unexpected interruption. The old man had seen a lot in his life, but never anything quite like these strangers.

The hunt leader was already a bit on edge since he had noticed their spears, and now he focused on their odd wraps. Something about them looked familiar, but just what it was eluded him for the time being. He grunted loudly, getting the attention of the rest of his band, then signed crudely and then waved his arm in a wide sweeping arc.

The hunters all spread out a few body widths apart from each other, and set themselves in a strong defensive posture. Each man had a long, thick stabbing spear with a fire hardened point held firmly, and crossed them across their bodies. The women crouched down and retreated, fading quickly into the brush and disappeared completely from sight.

As Rug and Borg came up to the near bank of the shallow creek through the thigh high grass, the man in the center of the wide semi-circle of hunters held his hand up and bared his teeth. It caught Rug off guard, and they slowed to a stop some fifteen paces or so out in front of the Clan, the narrow creek bubbled between them. Rug and Borg both set the butts of their spears on the ground and held the shafts beside them, the additional spears tips from the scabbards across their backs stuck up above their heads at an angle. Every man across the creek noticed the spear tips, and tightened their grips on the spears they held.

The Clan on both sides of the creek faced off, staring hard at each other. The silence of the moment was complete as the tension grew.

Rug waited patiently for any sign of welcome, custom decreed that the home Clan begin the greeting process. None came. He wished that Mog-ur was here, he would know what to do. Rug looked into the eyes of the old man, then shifted to the hunt leader. He could almost feel their trepidation and uneasiness, and Rug couldn't grasp why they were so defensive—and threatening. He knew he had to do something, even if it broke with tradition. He stepped forward, and began with one hand.

'We are travelers from a distant land, we mean no harm.' Without thinking about it, Rug had used the everyday signs of his Clan.

The hunt leader made a grimace, and bared his teeth again and made a one handed sign that Rug could not decipher. It suddenly dawned on Rug what he had done, and he took a deep breath and signed again. Slowly and meticulously, Rug used the ancient language of the Clan this time.

'We are travelers from a distant land, we mean...'

The hunt leader interrupted Rug with a jerky sign, now using the ancient language as well.

'You are not Clan.'

Rug was surprised at the rudeness the other man showed. He watched as the older Clan man nudge the leader again, and he turned his body to sign to him where Rug could not see. The hunt leader looked back at Rug, and signed again.

'What do you want?'

Borg was astounded, never in all his life had he seen such an open affront to a visitor. These men had no sense of Clan custom or tradition, or, they just didn't care. Either premise was bad enough to give him serious pause, there were seven of them. It had been a long time since Borg had felt fear, and the very taste of it soured his mouth.

Rug wished Mog-ur was here, surely he would know what to say to diffuse this potentially volatile situation that was developing. He searched his mind for any potential answer, none seemed very adequate right now, but he had to try.

'We wish to share a meal with you, and for you to teach us about this land that we must travel through on our journey. We have sent for our Mog-ur, he will have questions as well.' Rug's signs were slow and deliberate, he wished for no further misunderstandings.

The hunt leader thought about Rug's words before he raised his hand to sign again. Just before he began, the old man beside him nudged him again. He stopped and looked down at the old, wise hunter.

The old man began to sign, this time for all to see and in the common sign of the ancients.

'Hear them out, custom demands it. They are traveling with their Mog-ur, we cannot refuse a man of Ursus.'

The hunt leader scowled, he hadn't thought about the obvious rudeness he had shown. He was suddenly a little embarrassed at his behavior and it showed on his face. Like most men of the Clan, he had a healthy fear of mog-urs in general and of the spirit world that only they could understand. He felt the sudden wave of chill bumps spread up his back at the possible implications of his attitude with these strange visitors. The spirits saw everything, he knew that without a doubt, what would the repercussions be if he denied them what they sought? These people were Clan, weren't they? He didn't bother to ponder a reply to his own questions, he knew he would not like the answers.

Rug released his breath, relieved. The old man was obviously wise, and the leader seemed to hold him in high esteem. Borg took a deep breath, then signed carefully.

'We mean no harm, we only ask for your knowledge of this bountiful land of yours. We must traverse this land on our way south to continue our trek.'

The hunt leader relaxed a little, then his eyes involuntarily went back to the flint points of the stranger's spears. He became edgy again, and fully on guard. I don't like any of this, he thought, none of it. When he signed, his agitation showed.

'We are going on a long hunt, you are delaying us.'

'If you will not share a meal with us, will you tell us of the lay of the land to the south?' Rug asked, more calmly than he really felt.

The old man answered. 'We will tell you what you want to know, but you must tell us why you have spears with points of flint and why yours wraps are so strange.'

The hunt leader was irritated that the old man had answered for him, but he was curious and more than a little interested in the answers to the questions he posed. The old man had been his primary teacher since childhood who had taught him all he knew about hunting. Since he had been a boy, he had never had any reason to question his judgement and the hunt leader would not start doubting him now.

'Join us.' The hunt leader signed, and the rest of his hunters relaxed and dropped their spears down to a less threatening position. The old man turned to face the brush behind them, he signed in the everyday language.

The bushes rustled and the four Clan women appeared from their cover and walked very tentatively toward the old man. He signed to them again, and pointed to a small clearing in the grass to his right. The women nodded, and retrieved their bundles from the brush.

**********

Troog topped the hill overlooking the camp, and hurried down the slope as fast as he dared. Mog-ur, Brug, and Draag stood waiting for him at the edge of the camp. The women all stole glances in there direction, but none would be rude enough to observe mens business directly. Troog began signing before his feet stopped moving.

'It is a hunting party.' He began. 'They are "Clan".

Mog-ur was relieved, he worried more about running into the Others than he did another Clan. At least they could speak to any Clan.

"Draag, Brug" protect the camp, we will return.' Mog-ur signed, and Troog nodded and turned to head back up the rise. Mog-ur followed.

**********

Mog-ur spotted the thin finger of smoke and his heart sped up with anticipation. He had not seen or spoken to any member of another Clan in a long time, he wondered if their Mog-ur traveled with them. Since the calamity that had befallen his own Clan, Mog-ur had wanted badly to talk with another man of the spirits. There was much to tell, and much to discuss. Only another Mog-ur would do, and not just any Mog-ur at that. They would have to know, well, certain special procedures used only in the past, he thought.

**********

Rug sipped his tea. There had not been much said between the different Clans since the fire had been made and the tea served. He kept looking to the northwest, hoping that Troog and Mog-ur would hurry. The hunters were growing restless. Only the old man had engaged him in conversation, and it had been little more than light pleasantries thus far. Rug was a simple man, not brought up to be a leader, but thrust into the role by necessity and duty. He did the best he could to project himself as a proper leader should, but knew he inside that he was sorely lacking in the correct etiquette that was needed here.

One of the hunters hurried back to the mini camp from the other side of the creek, he went straight to the hunt leader who sat across the fire from Rug and Borg. Rug looked past him and felt awash with relief, they were coming. Mog-ur and Troog walked calmly toward them, Mog-ur had a serene look on his face.

The old man grunted to one of the women, and she quickly fixed up two fresh cups of tea. Another woman got up and topped off the rest of the mens cups.

Mog-ur crossed the creek and walked up to the fire, the men all stood to welcome him, bowing their heads slightly. The hunt leader was put off all over again by the strange garments, he had hoped that the Mog-ur would be dressed in the normal wraps of the Clan. He tried to cover his displeasure, but Mog-ur saw straight through him—and he knew it.

'In the name of Ursus, we wish to join you for tea and conversation.' Mog-ur's signs were flowing and beautiful to watch. Every man of the gathering felt the strength of the man.

The old man tapped his chest, and spoke. "Grum", welcome to this camp, Mog-ur.'

Mog-ur nodded, and motioned for Troog to sit. He looked back to the hunt leader, and motioned for him to sit as well. Mog-ur sat down beside him, next to Grum.

The woman brought the newcomers the tea she had prepared, and kept her head low and her body movements demure and almost agonizingly slow. She backed away and the men began to study each other in earnest now. The rest of the women followed her example, and were all quickly out of sight. Among men, this type of behavior was not deemed to be disrespectful. The popping and crackling of the fire was the only sound for the longest time.

Finally, the old man, Grum, looked to the visiting Mog-ur and made a slow, respectful sign.

'How can we be of service to you?'

**********

Mog-ur held court, he explained the strange series of events that had led to the exodus from their home cave. The massacre, the gathering of survivors, and their trek to the north to regroup and gather supplies and provisions. He told of being gravely wounded, of his efforts to reestablish the surviving Clan into a cohesive group that could support themselves and move on to find and establish a new home. Mog-ur told them how he clung on to his waning life, trying to stay alive long enough to see this come to fruition. He told them how he prepared himself mentally to go on to meet Ursus, and then he told them of the coming of the second group of the Others.

The men of the hunting party sat quietly, listening to the tale at first with only lukewarm interest. This increased as the Mog-ur got further into the story, the more they learned, the more they wanted to know. All of them knew of similar occurrences, where entire Clans had been wiped out by the people of the Others. These tales were told and passed on at Clan gatherings, and were all engraved deeply into their memories. Few had ever survived to tell of these tales first hand, and they were all enthralled by this rare, in depth personal account—of survivors.

The hunt leader was losing some of his fear and trepidation of these strangely dressed travelers. Engrossed in the story, he finally began to relax for the first time since the strangers had mysteriously appeared. The old man, Grum, listened to the story patiently beside him. Grum saw the hunt leader slowly becoming more interested in these strangers and less fearful of them, it pleased him for the man was not known for his patience.

'When these new Others showed up at our small camp, we feared the worst.' Rug had taken over the narrative. 'I thought that it would be the final battle, that we would surely all die. The Others had weapons that were accurate and so deadly from such a great distance. We had no way to deal with them, there was no defense we could muster.'

The hunters paid great attention now, any talk of weapons interested them. More than a few of the hunters wondered about these weapons that were capable of being deadly from a distance. Who had ever heard of such a thing, only the sling and the bola could strike from far away. Their attention level piqued, again.

'We tried to scare them away with a show of brute force, but they approached us with no sign of fear.' Rug paused, then went on. 'Then they spoke to us in the old language...'

The small gathering exploded with jerky, rapid signing, this was totally unheard of. Others that could speak, none of them could believe it. The unbelievable aspects of this tale grew greater and greater, but it was interesting.

Mog-ur waited until the initial uproar subsided, then held up his hand to calm them. He continued the story to the rapt, undivided attention of the hunters.

**********

'...after four days, I knew that I would now survive the terrible wounds I received, so good was the medicine woman of the Others.' Mog-ur paused, thinking of how to tell the next part of their story.

'I began to feel a little stronger every day. During this time, we came to get to know these strange people. They are different, but they are people like we are.

'Then the smoke from another camp fire was spotted from not too far away...

**********

'...the effectiveness of these weapons was thoroughly demonstrated at the ambush. You have never seen such destructiveness, these renegade Others were simply slaughtered. They had no chance at all.' Rug continued his portion of the story. 'It was the ambush that convinced us that we should try to learn the ways of the throwing spears.'

The reactions of the hunters was one of awe and more than a little disbelief. Throwing a spear was an abstract thought that none of them had ever had. No one turned away, though, as Rug continued.

'The Others taught us to make and to throw these special spears, it is a skill that is hard to learn—but well worth it.' Rug paused, then went on.

'We were successful on our very first hunt a few days later, killing a large moose. We have hunted with these weapons ever since.'

'The Others were anxious to continue on to their homes, and we began to discuss breaking camp and leaving as well.' Mog-ur again took over the narrative.

'The medicine woman of the Others even agreed to try and teach one of our women in the healing arts, for we had no trained medicine woman of our own.' Mog-ur paused to think about the next part of the story.

'As a people, no one in our Clan knew where to go. Every summer we were seeing more and more of the Others in our hunting territories, and after the massacre of our cave we knew wherever we went had to be far away. But where to go?'

Every hunter was now enthralled in the tale, and signs flew around the fire.

'What did you do?'

'Where could you go?'

'What about you, Mog-ur?'

'Could the Mog-ur travel so soon?'

Mog-ur's deep brown eyes sparkled. He felt most of the lingering mistrust begin to fade away, it was time to tell them the rest, he thought.

'When the medicine woman of the Others next treated my wounds, I received a sign from Ursus himself.'

Every one around the fire was instantly frozen at these powerful words.

In the distance, a lone wolf yipped several times before howling full force. His wondrous song echoing through the hills and valleys. It was the only sound other than the soft crackling of the fire and the rustling of the soft breeze through the grass and trees.

Mog-ur slowly stood straight up from his cross legged position and with exaggerated, very slow movements, he pulled the form fitted tunic up his chest and over his head. He squared his shoulders, and stood before them. The stunning black, grey, and blueish tattoo started from the deep indention in the center of his chest and spread out into thin fingers to just outside the sunken scar.

Every man around the fire felt chills spread over them, this was indeed a sign from Ursus. From deep within their memories, the symbol appeared in their minds. In every man's case, it matched the tattoo exactly. The hunters all knew now that these strangely dressed Clan men were on a mission directed by Ursus himself. Several of them shuddered with the power of the moment, the hunt leader included.

The fireside gathering was quiet for a long time. Though they knew there had to be more of the story, the hunters were content to mull over all they had heard in their minds. It was a lot to grasp, and even more to understand.

"Kaga!" The hunt leader called out, startling a few of his hunters who were still deep in thought of what all they had heard.

A woman appeared from behind a short willow tree, and hurried toward the fire. She stopped and knelt several steps away from the men keeping her eyes demurely low.

'We will stay here for a meal with our friends, make more tea.' The hunt leader signed quickly and without waiting for any acknowledgment from her, he turned his attention back to the Mog-ur and tapped his chest. "Grod." Will you have a meal with us?'

Mog-ur tapped his own chest. "Drak." Yes, a meal would be good.' He turned to Troog and signed to him.

'Go back to the camp. We will rest today and continue our journey tomorrow. Wait for us there.'

Troog nodded, and stood up to leave. Every hunter around the fire stared at the spear in his hand and those that stuck out of the scabbard on his back with curious envy. Troog trotted away at a steady pace that would not tire him for days.

**********

'...and our women made these in the style of the Others during the winter.' Rug signed, finishing his explanation of how they came to wear this odd style of garments.

'They look tight and restricting.' Grum said, fingering the sleeve and examining the small delicate looking stitching. 'These are well made, though, it must take a lot of skill to put them together.'

Rug shrugged his shoulders, he didn't know how much work went into anything the women did.

'They take some getting used to, but they do not hinder hunting in any way.' He answered, trying to remember how hard it was to get used to them. It seemed so long ago. 'It's the pouches that are hard to get used to, they hit your legs as you walk.'

Grod watched and paid attention to the conversation, he was excited about the pouches. It was a great way to carry small supplies, and the hunt leader already had plans to make one of his own. It was a good way to keep from losing knives during a hunt, he thought, having lost more than a few of his own over the years. These people are clever, he surmised, not knowing how much they had done on their own and how much came from the people of the Others. Grod wanted to know more.

**********

Rug looked over at Mog-ur, and saw that his small platter was empty. He didn't want to be rude, but he needed to find out more about the lay of the land to the southeast and along the river. He looked around to the other hunters, they were all either finished or almost finished.

Rug looked to Grum and began. 'What can you tell us of the lands along the river to the southeast, and beyond?'

Grum looked at the stranger, still wanting to ask more questions himself. He sighed and gathered his thoughts.

'After you get through this thin band of low hills...'

**********

Brug walked the banks of the creek casually with his spear in his hand. He wasn't really hunting, the antelope he killed this morning would last the Clan for several days, he was just restless. The boy hunted even when he wasn't hunting, it was just his nature. He moved like a hunter, he was aware of all his surroundings like a hunter, he saw minute bits of movement like a hunter. It was all he really cared about right now, and it helped him to keep his mind off the large man of the Others that he missed so much. As long as he stayed busy, these painful thoughts stayed out of the front of his mind, so he stayed busy a lot by choice.

A wolverine splashed the water out in front of him, partially obstructed by the trunk of a short tree. He washed off a small rabbit, freshly killed. Brug stopped and squatted down to watch. The wolverine tossed the limp body of the rabbit from one side to the other a few times. Then he picked the rabbit up by the back legs, and lifted it to his mouth. He bit through the skin on the rabbits belly, and pulled the skin away with his sharp teeth. The wolverine set the rabbit down at the edge of the water, and lay down on his fat belly to feed.

Brug sat down, his thoughts went back to Brann-uh. He wondered what the man who had become the substitute man of his hearth was doing. Do you ever think of me, Brann-uh, he wondered. He reached up and took his amulet into his left hand, softly fingering the contents. Even through the thick, supple leather he could feel the small flint point that Brann-uh had given him when the Clan had left on their journey. He squeezed the point gently, almost feeling the warmth of the man himself through the finely made point. Will I ever see you again, he asked himself, wishing for it to be true.

When Brug looked back over to where the wolverine had been he was surprised to find he was gone. I must not have been paying attention, he thought and stood up. There was no sign of the wolverine. Brug looked up at the sun, and knew he had better get back to camp, he had been gone most of the afternoon.

He walked back along the creek and came to a small spring flowing out from between three rocks that stuck out of the ground at an odd angle. Brug cupped his hands and took a long cool drink from the cold spring water. When he finished, he decided to refill his water bag with the fresh tasting cool water.

A small glimmer caught his eye at his feet as he tied the water bag back onto his belt. Brug looked harder and gasped as he knelt down. Two firestones were partially buried in the light brown mud. He quickly pulled them from the ground, and promptly spied another one and grabbed it too. Brug looked around, but saw no more of the magical rocks. He pulled the flap loose from the top of a pouch on his belt and dropped them in with great satisfaction. With light feet he started back up the gentle rise.

Brug was at the crest of the hill that overlooked the camp when he spotted them, Mog-ur and the rest were coming back to the camp. He hurried down to meet them.

**********

Brug sat in the short grass looking up at the rise of the hill, his young mind wandered. The sun was half covered by the hilltop and falling fast, its brightness and heat diminishing with its descent. The men had all been quiet ever since they had returned from meeting with the strangers of the of the other Clan that Brug himself had seen the first signs of. The men had gone out to scout them, and then even met with them, leaving him behind with the women and the two injured hunters—again. I am a hunter of this Clan, he thought to himself, I provide fresh meat as much as any other hunter here does. Brug was tired of always being left behind by the hunters of the Clan, he felt slighted more and more often.

The smell of the antelope slowly roasting on the spit back at the camp wafted over him on the gentle breeze that swirled in the valley from behind him. The succulent smell of the cooking meat made his stomach growl and his mouth water. He inhaled deeply through his nose, that really smells good, he thought, really good. Brug was hungry, he was always hungry.

He picked up a small stick from the ground between feet, twisting it between his powerful small hands. The stick fractured and split into little pieces under his grip. Brug saw something that caught him a little bit by surprise, he lifted his right hand up closer to his face. He saw the wisp of light brown hair growing on the back of his hand and well up his forearm too. Brug studied the new growth of hair, following it up his forearm and saw that it dissipated at the elbow, and stopped there. He studied it for a moment, then looked at his left hand to find the same thing happening there.

Brug dropped his hands back into his lap, and closed his eyes. I wish Brann-uh was here to see this, I am going to be a man soon. Lost in his happy memories, he thought back to the time when he and Branag had spent hours and hours chipping new flint points together. The older man of the Others was a patient and wise teacher, Brug had learned to work the shiny stone into efficient weapons and tools. Crude by the standards of Branag, but functional and oh so sharp. He missed this man of the Others, and thought of him often. The memories of him helped to quell the pain of knowing that he would probably never see him, or any of his other friends of the Mamutoi again.

"Brug!"

Brug jumped to his feet and spun around as his spear dropped to the ground at his feet, the loud voice came from right behind him, startling him completely. For the first time since the frightful river crossing he found himself deeply afraid as he looked up into the faces of every hunter of his Clan as they all stood in a tight semi-circle before him. Their faces all bore the same stern look, a look anger or was it rage? Brug couldn't tell, but he was afraid, very afraid. He lowered his eyes to the ground, frantically searching his mind for what he could possibly had done to merit this frightening confrontation.

Rug stared down at him without remorse, his eyes boring into the boy. Brug lifted his head up slowly, ever so slowly, not wishing to make matters worse. When their eyes met, he willed himself to hold Rug's powerful gaze.

Crag stepped forward a half a step, and signed to Brug. 'You will not move, you shall stand as still as stone.'

Brug felt the chill bumps creeping up his back, he was terrified beyond belief.

Crag signed again. 'Close your eyes, and do not open them again until you are told to do so.'

Brug nodded up at the hunt leader, trembling before his stony gaze. He shut his eyes slowly, and clinched them shut tightly.

Crag pulled a wide piece of leather died almost black and wrapped it over Brug's face, covering his eyes and nose and tied it tightly around the back of his head. Brug felt another deep stab of fear, he couldn't for the life of him think of what he could have possibly done wrong now. He trembled as he felt his hands being pulled together behind his back, and shook outright when he felt them being tied together.

The next thing he knew, a strong hand grasped him by each of his biceps and he was led away roughly. Brug had no sense of direction, and he had a hard time keeping up as the hunters half dragged him across the ground. Blind and terrified, he followed along as best he could. Every step seemed labored and clumsy, when he felt himself start to lose his balance, rough, strong hands yanked him back upright.

Brug heard the wail of a woman, then more wails and weeping. He heard his name being called, the voices laced with sadness, almost like the sounds the women made at burial rituals. Brug smelled the roasting meat of the antelope, close now. His fear increased, if that were possible.

The wailing of the women grew dimmer, and Brug stumbled along at the fast pace that the men who held him kept up, his short legs made it difficult. He had lost all sense of direction, and this only added to his fear and trepidation. He felt the ground rising, they were taking him up a hill and it made walking all the harder. Brug stumbled on a rock that protruded out of the ground a little bit and felt the strength of the men beside him as they pulled him back onto his shaky feet. It seemed to go on forever—then they stopped.

Brug's body shook, the fear was so strong that he thought he might throw up and he tried to dominate this rising feeling of sickness that enveloped him. He trembled and then all of the sudden, the blindfold was yanked roughly off his head. Brug kept his eyes shut.

"Brug."

He opened his eyes. A small fire burned in the waning sunlight on the ground a few steps in front of him in a circle of stones. Rug sat cross legged on the far side of the fire, flanked by the rest of the hunters of the Clan, all except for the two that held him firmly in place. Brug felt the band that held his arms behind him yank, then fall free. He was afraid to move, and kept his hands behind his back.

Crag and Troog left his sides, and sat down around the fire, joining the rest of the hunters. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself and make the constant trembling stop. The hunters all stared at him with the same stern, unreadable face. Brug breathed as deeply as his taught chest would allow.

"Brug!"

The sound of his name came from directly behind him, and the boy jumped and would have run away if he hadn't turned to see the painted face of the Mog-ur standing right behind him. If he had made any progress in calming his fear, it rapidly evaporated now.

Mog-ur stood with his entire upper body bare and painted in stark white, with blood red circles around his eyes and the nipples on his chest. His hands were also red, they looked as if they dripped blood. It was the most frightening sight Brug had ever seen by far. Brug summoned all his strength, he was firmly frozen in place, though he wanted to flee he knew there was no possible escape.

'I have been told by all powerful Ursus that the boy, "Brug" is dead.' Mog-ur said.

Brug's shoulders slumped, his mind screamed for him to run—to get away from this madness, but he stood stoically to accept his fate. His mind blanked, overcome by the fear and raw adrenalin that coursed through his young body.

'The boy must die for the man to be born.'

Brug's heart leaped in his chest, he almost fell over with relief. Then the fear came back, he had absolutely no idea of what was to come next.

A soft thudding sound began, and Brug was afraid to turn around to see what the hunters behind him were doing. The rhythm picked up in pace.

Mog-ur looked deep into Brug's eyes, seeing the fear. He raised his arms slowly, the red of his hands shimmered. When his hands were shoulder high, he stopped and held them there.

Brug was in awe of the spectacle before him. The thudding grew stronger and faster behind him.

Mog-ur started a low groaning sound, undulating softly at first, then slowly growing in volume and rising slightly higher in pitch. The groan was picked up by the hunters, the thudding grew louder. Brug trembled anew.

With a sudden loud thump, all sounds stopped. The silence was total. Mog-ur lowered his arms, then looked up to the sky that was a deep, dark blue as the sun slowly expired. He lifted his arms and began to sign to the heavens in the old language. His movements were fluid and graceful—and so very powerful.

'Ursus, we accept the ways you have given us. The ways of the Clan have been held true to your teachings and traditions. You tell us that this boy is dead. You say to us that he must be made into a man, a cherished hunter of the Clan. What you tell us is true, the boy must die so that the man might live. We honor your commands.'

Mog-ur lowered his arms to his sides, and Brug felt the tight grip of the hunters from behind him. He jerked, he had not heard them approach, but they held him tight and he was unable to move. Brug could barely breath.

'With this cut, the boy dies.' Mog-ur signed, and pulled a knife cut from flint in the traditional style of the Clan from a pouch dangling off his wide belt. Brug flinched, and tried to close his eyes, but his eyelids wouldn't move.

Mog-ur swiped his hand in a wide, fast arc toward his face, he felt his head jerk back as one of the men that held him yanked his head back by his hair. Brug knew in that instant that he was dead, he was too afraid to even flinch. The flint blade stopped at his throat, and Brug felt the sharpness of the knife as it cut him. He felt a trickle of warm blood run down his chest.

'This boy is dead, as you commanded, Ursus.' Mog-ur signed, then looked back down into Brug's frightened eyes. His face was a mask of painted, terrifying strength as he signed on.

'No longer will you be treated as the child you once were. No longer will you restrict yourself to hunting only the small animals. No longer will you seek the comfort of the woman that bore you. No longer will you tremble with the fear that only a child feels.'

Mog-ur knelt down and picked up a carved wooden bowl filled with a paste of red ocher. He dipped his fingers in the paste and reached over to slowly paint the sign of the wolverine on Brug's forehead. Brug was beyond fear now, he was numb inside and didn't make a move while the Mog-ur worked. He felt the trickle of blood on his chest and wondered again if it was his day to die.

'All powerful Ursus, this boy is dead as you have commanded.' Mog-ur dipped out another finger full of the red paste. He drew the sign of the wolverine full across Brugs chest, through the three lines of blood that still flowed from the wound at the base of his neck. The blood smeared and mixed with the paste, adding to the intensity of the color.

'The boy "Brug" is no more, "Brug" is now a man. May the mighty wolverine totem look over you and protect you always. A man of the Clan has strong obligations. He must provide for the Clan. He must protect the Clan from all enemies and threats. He must live according to the ways that Ursus has set out for the Clan. A man of the Clan must be one with Ursus—always.'

Mog-ur pointed toward a vacant space next to Rug at the fire. 'Sit there, and complete your manhood ceremony and duty.'

Brug hadn't realized that the two hunters who had held him had already let him go and returned to their seats. When he turned to face the fire, the stern, angry looks that the men had given him before were replaced by something else. Something he had never seen before. Acceptance. These men were accepting him as a man—a hunter. Brug's heart soared. He felt like he was floating as he took the four steps and sat down next to Rug. He was almost light headed, the relief he felt was so intense. The feeling was short lived, Mog-ur walked over and sat down beside him and he started to be afraid again though he wasn't quite sure why.

Crag reached out with his hand, he held a lump of something wrapped in a skin. Mog-ur took it, and held it in front of Brug, and pulled the loose flap of leather away exposing two organs from the antelope he had killed this morning.

'Eat the heart of the antelope and take it into your body. Take the strength and speed of this beast of Ursus into this body of a newly made man of the Clan.' Mog-ur signed.

Brug took the soft organ from the skin, and put it to his mouth. It was a little tough and stringy, but nothing head ever tasted so good to him. It didn't take long for Brug to finish it off, and it left him with bloody hands and a blood smeared face.

Mog-ur nodded to Brug, and the boy reached out for the remaining organ, the liver. Brug knew what to do with this one, he took a bite and passed it back to the Mog-ur. Each man made a favorable comment as the liver made its way around the fire, one hunter at a time.

Brug was proud, and more than a little humbled by these men—his fellow hunters. He was feeling better than he could ever remember, this companionship was more powerful than he could have imagined. Brug relished this feeling, he let himself be absorbed in it.

Mog-ur reached behind Crag beside him and pulled another wooden bowl up and set it on the ground in front of him. Brug took a deep breath and looked up at the sky for a brief moment, he could see a single star shining feebly through the last throes of daylight.

Mog-ur began to sign again.

'Spirit of the wind, spirit of the rain. Spirit of the sun, spirit of the moon. Spirit of the mighty thunder. Join us. Mighty Ursus, we drink this potion to become one with you all, if only for a fleeting moment. The spirits that guide and protect us, we will join with you to glimpse your power and wisdom, if it so pleases you.'

Mog-ur held the bowl up to the flames of the fire, then took two swallows from the bowl and passed it on to Crag. The bowl made its way all the way around the fire, and when it was finally handed to Brug, there was barely over a swallow left—just like Mog-ur had planned.

Brug almost gagged on the bitter taste, and it burned his throat as he forced himself to swallow the first gulp. When it hit his stomach, it took all his will power to keep it down, then he drained the bowl. The bitter aftertaste burned the back of his tongue, and his throat felt soured and singed. Brug looked slowly from one hunter to another, seeing them all staring into the flames. Curiosity forced him to look into the fire as well.

The flames danced in his eyes, so beautiful and strong. The colors were more vibrant and brighter than he had ever seen them before. Brug felt his body start to sway gently, and he heard the soft, rhythmic thudding again. He pulled his eyes from the fire, and saw that the men pounded their right fists onto the ground beside them. Without thinking, he aped them as his eyes were drawn back to the flames.

The redness of the coal bed was brighter than anything he had ever seen, glowing and pulsing like something alive and powerful. The colors of the fire melded and blurred into a kaleidoscope of brilliance such as he had never known. Brug felt himself being swallowed by its beauty and majesty, he felt a weightless sensation envelope his body and the faces of the other hunters grew blurry before him across the fire.

A slow darkness crept in on him, funneling out everything else. Growing, covering everything else within his field of vision. Brug felt himself rolling over backwards slowly, ever so slowly. He tried to reach out and stop his fall, but his right hand was still pounding the earth and his other hand wouldn't respond to his mental commands. Falling...falling...

The last thing he would remember of this incredible night was the vision of the tall man of the Others, the man he left behind. Branag's familiar face came to him, and the odd sight of the large band of the Others that trailed behind him in a long unbroken line of small clumps and ragged groups of people. People Brug recognized.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

_**A Hunt and a Feast**_

The six men left camp in the dark stillness of the night, heavily loaded with an abundance of weapons but very little else. It was their fifth day out on the steppes, and their supply of fresh meat was already seriously depleted. There was quite a crowd to feed, and appetites were fierce from the daily exertions of traveling steadily so heavily laden.

They paused once they got past the far edges of light from the three perimeter fires of the camp to let their eyes get used to the darkness. The three men on guard duty watched them until they disappeared into the shadowy black night.

Vincavec was at the eastern most fire, and followed them with his eyes for quite a long way before finally losing sight of them. He wished he could have gone with them, but he was really tired from having taken the second watch and he wasn't getting any younger. He silently wished them success and safety, then turned to walk the perimeter again.

Talut, Danug, Brenan, Ludeg, Jozen, and Branag all stood quietly in a small group staring out blankly onto the vast grassy flats, waiting patiently for it to come into some kind of focus. Gradually, they began to be able to see better as their eyes adjusted to the dim light of the full moon and clear sky of sparkling stars.

Danug licked his thumb and stuck it up over his head and gauged the direction of the wind, then he grinned at Ludeg and the two men took off at a slow trot to the southeast with the rest in tow. They jogged directly into the light breeze across the waving mid-calf high grass. The men stayed in a double wide line, being as quiet as they could as they went.

The moon was two thirds of the way down, and continued its nightly journey falling slowly. Their short range vision was pretty good, but it faded quickly as the distance increased. They were essentially blind very much past twenty five steps or so in any direction, so they stayed as close together as their long spears would allow.

The night sounds of the steppes were considerably more pronounced now that the soft murmur of the camp was well out of hearing behind them. The sounds came at them from all sides, it was almost impossible to ascertain the direct source of any of the particular sounds as they moved. The noises carried softly across the vastness on the breeze, almost with the sound quality of an echo. A single moo from an aurochs, a snorting bellow from a bison, the cackling of a hyena, the yipping of a pack of dholes. It was all there, nighthawks and owls overhead, wolves howling, the whinney of horses and the braying of onagers. Life on the steppes never really completely stopped to sleep, it just slowed for the night.

After a while, they heard the rumbling grunts of a cave lion coming from somewhere off to the south, it was really hard to tell. They veered off a little more northerly to hopefully put some more distance between them. Brenan and Jozen brought up the rear, and both of them tried to keep a sharp eye out in case the lion, or lions, came their way. They trotted on, looking over their shoulders often.

A little before the moon disappeared completely from of sight, Danug slowed them to a stop with a wave of his arm. Ludeg sided up to him, and they waited for the others to join them and gather around. Dark lumps were slightly visible a little way out in front of them, and the wind direction still favored the hunters by taking their scent directly away from the sleeping animals.

They were all still, silently looking and trying to discern what it was that was bed down, when the soft bawling of a calf came from off their southeast flank. They could hear the occasional snort from the animals, and it answered their first silent question.

"Aurochs." Ludeg whispered softly.

"Sounds like a lot of them." Talut whispered back, grinning in the darkness.

"We don't have too much time before daybreak, how do you want to do this?" Brenan asked, looking at the far western horizon.

The grass was considerably shorter here and much more sparse, barely rising up over the tops of their ankles for the most part, having been grazed on extensively. They all stood quietly, deep in thought of all the possible hunt strategies. It was a difficult task, not knowing how many aurochs there were ruled out a lot of choices of how the best way to hunt them would be.

"I think we should try to stay pretty close together on this one." Danug said.

"I agree." Branag answered. "We can't afford to get spread out too thin without knowing how many of them there are."

"Why don't we cover ourselves with grass, and crawl up a little closer before the sun comes up." Talut suggested. "That way we might be close enough to rush a straggler or two together."

It got quiet for a while as everyone thought about this strategy.

"That sounds good to me, but we had best get busy, look." Brenan said, pointing to the very beginnings of the first signs of a soft glow on the far western horizon.

"Let's do it." Talut said, setting his long throwing spear on the ground and kneeling down to pull up a clump of the short grass.

The rest of them spread out a little, and followed Talut's lead.

**********

As the first light crept slowly over the land, they were in position. Danug and Branag took the forward most position with the rest of them spread out behind them in a wide vee formation. Talut and Jozen were out at the farthest ends of the vee, with Brenan and Ludeg in the centers.

All of them were laying down on their stomachs with their heads lifted up just enough to see over the short grass. They were covered with the grass they had pulled up, with extra clumps stuck into the necks of their tunics. Throwing spears and spear throwers on each side of them, at the ready.

Danug and Branag watched the shapes in the distance begin to rise up, the aurochs were starting to get up to feed. There were a lot of them, and the shapes were close, and getting closer.

"Oh great Mother, we're too close." Danug whispered to Branag a few body widths to his right.

Branag's eyes were wide as he saw the same thing. A huge bull was no more than seven steps off to their left and out in front of them, and three cows were a couple of steps father away directly in front of them.

Danug looked back at Talut and Brenan to his left, by the looks on their faces they had already come to the same conclusion. The aurochs were indeed too close, this would be tricky—and dangerous.

Talut pulled his right hand up and made a crude Clan sign to Brenan. 'I'll take the bull.'

Brenan nodded, and decided that he would help him with that, and whispered to Danug. "We'll take the bull, the rest of you take the cows."

Danug nodded, and passed the information on to Branag who passed it on in turn. They all grabbed their heavier throwing spears, and got ready. The tension hung over them like a dark cloud as they waited for the right moment before exposing themselves to the aurochs.

The bull made the decision for them as he wallowed around and snorted as he slowly got to his feet. Just before he was fully erect, Talut and Brenan both jumped up at the same time and threw their spears. The bull was caught completely by surprise, and was hit hard in the center of his chest at an angle and his right shoulder at almost the same time.

The bawling cry of pain and anger from the bull rang out over the steppes, and he dropped to a knee under the shattered left shoulder. All of the sudden the ground in front of them turned into a blur of motion as aurochs from all over in front of them jumped to their feet. The quiet of the dawning was shattered with the rumbling of the aurochs heavy hooves and their cries of anguish and bellowing warnings of danger.

The bull lurched back up onto three legs solid legs and one wobbly leg and Brenan hit him in the neck with a spear flung hard from his spear thrower. Talut hit him as well with his last full length throwing spear, burying it deep into his rib cage as the pained bull twisted from Brenan's spear.

Danug and Branag both hit the cow nearest to them, and Jozen and Ludeg hit the cow beside her. Both animals were gravely wounded, but only the second cow went down immediately from the impact of the spears. The first cow faltered and tried to get away on very shaky legs, bawling loudly.

With a second spear from Brenan's spear thrower, the bull dropped. He hit the ground on his side, breaking one of Talut's throwing spears and one of Brenan's lightweight spears from the spear thrower. He kicked with his uninjured rear legs like he was running, but his movements slowed after only a little bit. The bull wailed in pain and anguish.

The herd was enormous, and most of the animals took flight away from the wounded bull and cows, and a stampede began heading both northeast and splitting off to the northwest as well. The thundering of their hooves and their bawling cries were deafening, so much so that Talut didn't hear the young bull that charged toward them from the north.

Talut was walking cautiously toward the wounded bull and the cow just past him, his spear thrower up and ready. Brenan pulled another spear from the scabbard on his back and slapped it into place and started to follow Talut. From his right side, he saw the look of panic in Branag's eyes as he pointed and shouted to get their attention. Brenan nor Talut either one couldn't hear him over the sounds of the stampede.

Brenan spun to his left, and screamed at Talut and reared back with his spear thrower and heaved it with all his might. Talut turned at the sound of Brenan's warning, to see the bull bearing down on him fast. Brenan's spear took the young bull in the shoulder, penetrating deep into his chest. The bull faltered and stumbled for a step or two, but kept coming.

Talut launched his spear, and dove to his right without seeing the results. The spear hit the bull in the lower part of his wide neck, just above where it met his torso. It went deep, but the maddened bull kept coming and lowered his head to try and gore Talut as he passed. He just missed the giant of a man, and instead of turning to try again, he saw Danug and veered toward him in a bound. The bull was slowed somewhat, but was still coming on hard and fast and still very strong on his feet.

Branag pulled back and let fly with his last heavy throwing spear. The large man put everything he had into it, then screamed out a warning to Danug. Branag's spear hit the bull in the neck just below his head, going all the way through with the bloody point sticking out a hands width through back side. The bull turned his head from the impact and Brenan's last spear hit him in the right flank. The combination of the two spears caused him to veer away from Danug just enough to miss him with his wide, sharp pointed horn. Danug had heard the hooves pounding as he got close, and dove to the ground to his left as the bull passed close enough for him to smell the fresh blood and get dirt kicked up on him.

Then, as quickly as it had all begun, it was over.

Four animals were down, and Talut and Danug both got up on shaky legs, covered with the light brown dirt of the steppes. Brenan eyes grew wide and he suddenly looked lost as he reached for another spear from the scabbard and found that he had none left. He suddenly felt as helpless as a suckling babe as the adrenalin continued to pump through him.

The men all looked around them for any other signs of danger. Through the dust of the stampede, they heard the soft bawling of a calf over the thundering in the distance. As the dust began to settle, they saw her a little over to the east struggling to get to her feet. The calf had been stepped on in the stampede, and had a broken front leg and heavily damaged rear leg to show for it.

Talut walked over to her and put her out of her misery.

Quiet slowly spread across the flat grassy land. The dust cloud covered the eastern horizon, shimmering in the light breeze and the soft sunlight of the dawn. This day was born.

**********

It almost became a contest, Danug and Talut each trying to out do the other. The more cut up meat Talut piled onto the aurochs skin, the more Danug put in his own. The skins were already piled higher than a normal man could carry, and still being piled higher.

Brenan and Ludeg worked over the second cow, slicing off large chunks of boneless meat and setting them on her own skin on the ground beside the carcass. The meat never got piled very high, Talut and Danug saw to that. They had skinned and cut up the young bull, harvesting only the choices cuts. Even that had looked like a contest as to which man could cut meat the fastest.

Jozen and Branag had the calf almost all butchered out, and Branag got up to go over and start on the older of the two bulls. He made a long cut right down the center of the back of the bull, following its spine. There wouldn't be too many choice pieces of meat from him, he thought as he pulled the heavy hide away from the back strap muscles. This is a tough old guy, he grinned, looking over to the bull's long chipped and scarred horns. Branag looked at Danug and Talut, he grinned again at their constant need to compete with each other, they had always seemed to enjoy the competition. Talut's face was split with a big, proud grin that just wouldn't quit.

The predators and scavengers started gathering long before the men were finished cutting up the meat. First came the vultures, circling high on the wind currents and eventually lighting on the ground around them at a safe distance in pairs and threes. Then came the first small band of hyenas and a pack of dholes, also content to wait in the wings—for now.

A pair of tuft-eared lynx came over from the north, and sat tall and proud watching the men's every move. A second band of hyenas were spotted making their way up from the southeast, it was a large group, they had several more animals than the first group that showed up from the west.

Talut kept an eye on the hyenas, he knew how aggressive they could be at times from personal experience. When he spotted the second, larger group he looked around to see how much longer he thought it would be before they were ready to leave. Most of the work was done, it shouldn't be too much longer.

**********

It was all Talut could do to hoist the heavily loaded skin up and over his broad shoulders. The load had to weigh more than he did. His arms bulged and rippled under the strain and he almost lost his balance under the heavy load when he first got it all the way up. Sweat streamed down his face and into his flaming red beard. He took a few clumsy, jerky steps forward.

Danug almost fell over backward when he first picked up his skin, the weight was enormous. He gritted his teeth and lurched fully upright, and swayed from side to side until he got control of the massive weight and bulk. His face was a distorted mask of strain, his brow furrowed deeply and his jaw set firmly. Danug tried a few steps himself, and found that he could walk, but it wasn't easy.

Brenan and Ludeg took one set of spears tied together with a hanging skin between them, and Jozen and Branag took the other. There were only four full length throwing spears left unbroken. Brenan had three spears in his scabbard for the spear thrower, the rest had been broken in the hunt. Branag had three scabbards of spears for the spear thrower strapped across his back, his own, Talut's and Danug's as well.

They started off, heading southwest. The gusty wind blew at their backs, they had a long way to go to try and catch up with their traveling caravan. Their pace was slow and measured with the heavy burdens they carried, but at least the ground was level and the grass was still short.

Jozen brought up the rear, and looked back over his shoulder often to make sure they were not being stalked by the growing number of animals behind them. Nothing was following them, but the hyenas and the pair of lynx were both moving toward the remains of the aurochs. The high pitched yipping and mournful cries of the dholes began in earnest as they approached the kills.

The hunters worked their way back to the southwest through the short, bright green grass. Talut and Danug both managed their loads relatively well after shifting the weight a few times to achieve better balance and they got relatively used to the weight.

Sweat poured off both men, and Talut kept sneaking sideways glances at Danug, grinning at his strapping son's silent determination. Before Danug had left on his journey, he and Talut had enjoyed a healthy competition with any task that required sheer physical strength or endurance. Since he had returned, Danug had missed no opportunity to challenge the man of his hearth. Danug was as tall as Talut now, but Talut was still the bigger man. The massive bulk of Talut's incredible physique, the heavy weight of the mass of pure muscle that he carried on his large frame was something that Danug might achieve eventually as he aged and matured, but he wasn't there as yet. His strength, however, was never in question.

Talut couldn't have been any prouder, Danug was strong and confident and as capable as any man in the group. He had a quiet demeanor, and never flaunted his strength as something to show any kind of dominance over the other men. Danug, like Talut, used his magnificent body to help his people, never to intimidate them.

The loads that the other four men carried between them in the hanging skins tied to the spears were so heavy that the spears flexed with each step they took. It would be a hard, long walk back and the sun beat down on them without mercy.

The grass thickened as they went on and the thick clumps of the taller, darker green grasses increased in quantity. This grass was made up of coarse, thick strands that few of the grazing animals ate as their first choice on the bountiful steppes. As the spring and summer wore on, this would not always be the case as the softer, more delectable grass was eaten down and became more scarce.

The soft, occasionally gusting breeze gave a little relief from the hot sun, but not much. The day was hot, though, and it only looked to get hotter as the bright sun climbed higher in the sky.

Behind them, the scavengers began to fight over the carcasses. Two of the downed aurochs were close enough together to be claimed as one, and they were contested by the first group of hyenas and the energetic pack of dholes. The other three dead aurochs were taken by the lynx, the large congregation of vultures, and the recent arrival of a small pack of dark grey wolves.

The hyenas were outnumbered by the dholes, but they were smarter and much better organized as a group. The crafty old dominate female used her pack to attack the smaller dholes with skill and cunning. Charging forward in mock attacks only to fall off in sudden retreat, spinning and returning to the fray in vicious, probing attacks. Two of the dholes fell victim to the tenacity of the hyenas, sprinting away with light, but painful wounds.

Before too long, the confused dholes abandon the fight and regrouped to run the vultures off what was left of the calf and eventually claimed it as their own. The wily vultures had no feasible way of protecting the carcass. They backed off to wait patiently for their share of the scraps that would be left when the high strung dholes had gorged themselves and moved on.

Skittish and always looking back over their shoulders expecting imminent danger, they were rarely able to slow their constant need to be in perpetual motion. The dholes ate in voraciously quick, violent spats. Tearing into the carcass for short, frantic bouts and backing off just as quickly to allow others to take their place, they all ate their fills. It didn't take long, and they scampered off to disappear into the grass as quickly as they had come.

**********

Talut was the first to see the large pack of hyenas encroaching from the southeast. He kept an eye on them silently for a while until it was obvious that they were taking way too much of an interest in the hunters.

The way they moved together made it hard to make an accurate count of their numbers, but there were definitely enough of them to be concerned. Talut had rarely seen this large a group and he didn't like it.

"We have company." He said, and slowed to allow the others to catch up to him and Danug.

The hyenas slowed their approach when the men stopped, but the way they moved as they came closer was intimidating enough all by itself. The lead female wound her way through the others, side to side. Several of the others did the same thing. It looked like a winding ribbon of movement. Twisting and turning, but all the while getting nearer, closing in quickly.

Talut dropped the heavy skin off his back to the ground and Danug did the same. Brenan and Ludeg set the spears off their shoulders, lowering the heavy skin to the ground with a thud. Branag and Jozen followed in kind.

Branag pulled the extra scabbards of off his back and handed them out to Talut and Danug. Everyone pulled their spear throwers into position and loaded them with spears. They watched the hyenas, and didn't like what they saw next at all.

The hyenas split into two unequal sized groups, the larger group circling to the north while the smaller group came straight on at the hunters. The larger group split in two and one part of them turned and went at the hunters while the other kept on to the north. They quickly surrounded the hunters in an obtuse triangle formation, though keeping a safe distance for the moment.

"This could get ugly." Branag said softly, eyeing the group that worked their way around them to the north.

"I've only got three spears left." Brenan said.

"I have four." Jozen echoed.

"Ludeg, you and Danug get the throwing spears from the hanging skins—we may need them." Talut said as he watched the lead female stop and yip at the others.

The eastern pack slowed and scattered out into a loose line, sometimes two deep. They trotted ahead slowly. The hyenas to the north turned and spread out as well. The group in the middle stopped, the dominant female sat back on her haunches and cackled loudly.

"We can't afford to miss, we're going to have to let them get close." Talut said.

The hunters formed a loose circle around the skins of meat in pairs, all looking out.

"Really close." Danug answered, returning quickly with four long throwing spears in his hands. He handed two of them to Talut, and kept the other two for himself. Ludeg hurried back to Brenan's side and pulled his spear thrower back up and to the ready.

Talut looked over the scene, he didn't like the looks this even a little bit. Since the pack had split, he had gotten a rough count. There were more than twenty five of them all together, maybe closer to thirty. They didn't have that many spears left between all of them.

A hyena from the group to the north started cackling, adding her song to the lead females. Two more joined her from the eastern group. Their ominous sounds carried easily across the flat ground, and more joined in. The hyenas began closing in, all of them cackling and yipping. The sounds were eerie and ominous, and growing louder.

"Wait 'til they're really close." Talut warned, raising his spear high. "Try to take the larger ones, the leaders out first."

Brenan tried to pick out the most aggressive looking animal in the bunch in front of him, and he pointed to a large one on the right flank of the approaching animals. Ludeg nodded, and sought out a target of his own.

The hyenas sped up, coming at them from three directions at once.

Branag picked the largest animal and took aim. Jozen held his spear thrower high, but waited and watched.

Talut and Danug squared off against the southern most pack, both seeking targets.

The hyenas broke into a full fledged run, charging hard. Hyenas didn't normally run in straight lines, and these were no exceptions. They zig-zagged and veered directions as they came making for very difficult targets.

Talut let fly, his spear hurtling forward with all the force he could muster. As soon as Danug saw which animal he had thrown at, he picked a different animal and let loose himself.

Brenan and Branag both threw their spears at almost the same exact instant, with Ludeg and Jozen following close behind.

The first wave of spears took down five hyenas, all mortally or seriously wounded, and a sixth with a superficial wound from a spear that glanced off the top of his skull. The rest of them came on, faster now.

Branag and Danug got off a second throw quickly, and Ludeg, Talut, and Brenan followed in quick order. Jozen took his time, and let fly his second spear more carefully this time, his first had not produced a kill.

Four more hyenas were hit with the second wave, three hitting the ground hard and a forth scurrying sideways with a spear protruding at a strange angle from his shoulder. The rest continued on.

Talut popped a spear into his spear thrower and heaved it with strength and agility, Danug did the same. Brenan threw his last spear, taking a hyena straight in the chest. He dropped his spear thrower, and pulled a broken throwing spear from the scabbard on his back, holding it defensively out in front of him.

Ludeg fired off his last spear, and reached into an empty scabbard looking for more. Jozen threw another spear, then loaded his last spear into the spear thrower.

Danug threw his last spear, and Talut did as well. Branag pulled his final remaining spear from his scabbard and slapped it into place.

Hyenas lay dead and dying on the ground all out before them. Danug's spear took the dominant female in the ribs, and the attack faltered as she went down. Branag hit the closest animal to him, rolling him head over heels with a hard shot to the upper neck. Talut caught a hyena in the chest, and the surrounding animals broke off. They circled back away from the hunters in both directions.

The remaining hyenas turned and fled, two of them had spears sticking out of their bodies. They joined back up to the east and one hyena fell out as they trotted away, writhing in agony as he tried futilely to run on three legs.

The cackling faded away slowly, and the cries and moans of the dying animals came from all around them. A collective sigh of relief came from the hunters, it was over—at least for now.

**********

Vincavec, Matera, and Latie walked side by side off to the right of the main part of the traveling caravan talking by themselves. It had been a long day, the sun was bright and hot with only an occasional gusting breeze. They all had sweat running down their faces as they walked.

Latie carried Bralut cradled under her right arm in a soft skin sling and had a large, heavy back pack strapped across the center of her back. Vincavec had a similar, but larger back pack and a heavily loaded skin bundle draped around the back of his neck that he carried across the center of his chest. The skin had a tendency to bounce against the front side of him with every step he took. Matera carried the same basic load that Vincavec did, though somewhat lighter.

The grass was well eaten down and short here, with a lot of light brown top soil fully exposed. A low cloud of dust rose up and moved on the soft gusts of wind from the main body of the group. Those in the back were pretty well covered with a layer of the fine dirt. Latie, Matera, and Vincavec stayed just in front of the dusty cloud.

"I've been thinking," Latie began. "I wonder if we could try a searching ceremony to go on ahead and see if we can find out where the Clan is right now."

Matera cocked an eyebrow, wondering just how accomplished this young Mamut really was in such a powerful metaphysical endeavor. She really hadn't known Latie all that well prior to their arrival at the Lion Camp. Latie was very young for this, and even though she had been trained by the most powerful Mamut that the Mamutoi had ever known, Matera had her doubts. Sizeable doubts.

"It's possible." Vincavec said, thinking out loud. "But it is very dangerous to search through lands that you have no direct experience in, it is very easy to get lost."

"If you get lost and can't find your way back, you can get trapped in the spiritual void." Matera chimed in, looking at Latie.

"I realize that, but if we went together we should be safe enough. Surely we wouldn't all lose our sense of direction." Latie answered, thinking about the adverse possibilities, yet again.

Matera watched her carefully, she saw the confidence in Latie's face and was more than a little surprised by it. Most young, inexperienced mamuts didn't have very much confidence in their own abilities in the metaphysical world, they usually feared it. Many older mamuts were reluctant to go into the spirit world at all. Latie wasn't afraid, that much was obvious. Matera wondered where all this confidence had come from.

"We had no problems communicating before, Vincavec. We could include Brenan, he could go with us just like before." Latie said, a little more forcefully.

Vincavec pondered this, it was true that the three of them had communicated very well together in the spirit world. But that was different, he thought, that was when we used the sacred root of the Clan. The attempt to recreate the effects of the Clan root he had tried with Matera had turned out badly, almost fatally, but maybe Latie was right. Maybe it would be safer if they tried with only Brenan and Latie and himself. He needed to consider this, it was not something he had given any real thought to.

"Let me think on this for a while, we'll talk about it again later this evening Latie."

Latie smiled, it was a good idea and she knew it. Surely Vincavec would see things her way. Surely.

Matera thought back to all that Vincavec had told her about that fateful spiritual trip he had taken using the Clan root. It was hard for her to be objective about it because of the truly bad memories she had of their effort to try and recreate it. The thought of metaphysical travel, with Vincavec going without her gave her chills. Matera knew that Vincavec was a highly accomplished Mamut, possibly the best there was besides herself.

The two of them had trained together under old Lomie of the Wolf Camp for an entire summer, actually a little longer than that, but still she was worried. Matera didn't feel safe going with them either, it worried her about any possible ill consequences to the child she carried. It was a lot to consider, all told, and her emotions were distracting her from a truly objective opinion. Matera had never felt quite so protective about anyone before as she did about Vincavec right now—and her child.

**********

"Look!" Danug said, pointing to the southwest. A dark, thin plume of smoke rose up into the bright blue sky, or was it more than one? It was hard to tell the way the smoke drifted on the breeze.

"That's good to see, I'm hungry!" Talut said grinning, carrying all the heavy aurochs meat only seemed to tease him, and his massive appetite.

"Talut, you're always hungry." Jozen said with a laugh. He wasn't the only one who thought the red haired brute funny and the other men laughed along with him.

"That I am, let's get on over there." He answered, veering their direction a little more due south. The others picked up their pace to try and keep up, they were all exhausted but the sight of the others invigorated them on.

**********

The meat sizzled over the fires, popping and dripping blood and juices into the flames. Three fires were going strong, a half dozen steps apart, and all of them had meat cooking over them. Fueled by a combination of dried dung and brown grass, they were smoky, unpleasant smelling fires. The smell of the meat was the only smell that anyone noticed, though, it had been another long hard day.

It was late afternoon, and the camp was already set up for the night. Several of the men were preparing the perimeter fires for later, and most of the women were involved getting the evening meal going. With all that was being brought out and worked on, it looked to be a feast in the making.

Large quantities of roots and tubers were soaking in a tripod cooking skin, floating in a thin layer of water. A basket of mixed fruits were washed and sliced up, then beautifully arranged on a wide mammoth pelvic bone platter. Carrots and onions soaked in a basket half full of water, and a small basket of crinkly dried mushrooms sat nearby.

The children helped the adults, and generally got in the way as they usually did. Especially the toddlers. Little Ralev was everywhere, under the feet of the men and sneaking bites of food from the women. He had a perpetual smile plastered across his soft pink face, a smile that allowed no one to get angry at him no matter what he did. When he got caught trying to saw a piece of meat off an aurochs leg fresh off the fire, Fralie laughed so hard at him she almost fell over onto the skin of vegetable stew she was stirring.

Deegie and Nezzie looked after the babies who crawled around on a bison skin on the ground under a small lean-to in the shade. Bralut and Brydag seemed absolutely intent on escaping. They were constantly crawling off the skin and into the dirt before they were collected and put back in the center of the skin, just to start the exercise all over again. The looks on their faces as they were snatched up and put back on the skin made both women laugh, over and over.

Talut and Danug napped just inside the larger of the two traveling tents, both end flaps were tied open allowing whatever breeze there was to flow through. Naked and stretched out on top of their sleeping furs, they seemed to be in the middle of a new competition as to which of them could snore the loudest. Talut was currently winning, but not by much.

Brenan and the other three hunters napped inside the other tent, too tired to even snore. Women went in and out of the tent putting the final touches inside it for the night, but none of the men were ever aware they had even been there.

**********

The meal was served just as the sun was going down. It truly was a feast, there was more food laid out than they could ever possibly eat, though Talut and Danug did give it an honest try.

The breeze picked up as the darkness encroached and cooled the hot air and ground around them rather quickly, it also helped to keep the heavy smoke from the fires from choking them out. It promised to be a cool night, and no one was sorry to see the sun slip slowly out of sight.

The general mood of the camp was weary, but festive. The freshly cooked aurochs meat was attacked with a vengeance, and it tasted even better than it had smelled roasting on the fires. Having the best cooks from two different camps competing unconsciously with each other didn't hurt anything at all. They all ate their fills, and relaxed with fresh hot tea around the fires in loose groups.

The older children caught their second winds from the feast, and pranced all over the camp burning off their newfound energy. The babies fell asleep one by one and were put into the tents or onto skins on the ground near their mothers. Many of the women retired to the furs early, and a few of the older men joined them.

A few high clouds blew in on the soft winds, partially obstructing the bright full moon and deep sea of twinkling stars. Thin and translucent, they glowed light yellow as they crossed over the moon creating a stunning light halo.

The leaders of both camps sat around the central fire, sipping tea and recuperating from stuffing themselves. Talut laid back on the warm ground looking up at the sky, slightly miserable from all he had eaten, but very content.

"Brenan, I have been trying to talk Vincavec into searching with us to see if we can find the Clan." Latie said, looking at her mate with sparkling eyes full of love and mischief.

Her words and the tone of her voice caught Brenan by surprise, then he realized that she had included him in her little plan. Brenan wasn't all that sure he wanted to try to do a metaphysical search, that was scary business.

"Me too? I have to go?" He asked, knowing her answer when she smiled sweetly at his obvious discomfort.

"Of course, we searched many times with Old Mamut—what is the problem?" Latie knew that Brenan would be reluctant, but she also knew he wouldn't deny her request either.

"I need you to go with us because we can communicate so well in the spirit world. Besides, Vincavec tells me that if we get lost we might not be able to find our way back—and that would be bad."

"What do you mean by 'bad'?" Brenan's face showed his trepidation, and a little of his fear.

"'Bad' means that if we get lost we might get stuck in the spirit world from now on." Vincavec answered. He had been considering Latie's request all through the meal and had grown to kind of like the idea.

Matera didn't like it though, and Vincavec couldn't really figure out why. She had been tight lipped since Latie first brought up the subject. This was not like her, and it worried him.

"Oh." Brenan muttered softly. That is just great, he thought. Mamut, where are you when I need you the most?

Talut sat up and looked at Tulie next to him. "What do you think, Tulie? It sounds like a good idea to me, I would like to know where they are. How far away they are, too."

"I don't know, it sounds a little risky." Tulie said, watching Vincavec's facial expressions closely. "Vincavec, how dangerous is it really?"

Vincavec thought about Tulie's question for a long, quiet moment before he answered her. When he spoke, he looked directly at Matera beside him.

"There is always a risk, but if we search in the daylight I think the danger is minimal. We will not venture too far, at least not on the first try."

Latie's eye lit up, he was willing to try. She wanted to jump up and hug him around the neck she was so pleased, but she covered her emotions and sat still.

Brenan lowered his head and looked at the ground in front of him. Whee, he thought, here we go again.

Matera stared at Vincavec, then her stern face broke into a soft, loving smile. The grey streak in her hair positively glowed in the soft fire light, enhancing her natural beauty.

"If you wait until daylight to try it I am sure it will be safe enough." She put her hand on Vincavec's thigh and gave it a little squeeze. "This is not a bad idea."

Vincavec smiled at his promised, finally seeing her confidence in him shine through her possessive behavior of late.

"We need to get the rest of the aurochs meat cooked tomorrow anyway." Tulie said. "That will take a while, your search won't delay us."

"Well, that's settled then. We will search in the morning." Latie said, looking to Tulie, and then to Matera for any other objections and finding none.

Talut grinned at the daughter of his hearth, he loved her strong will and confidence. He laid back down on the ground and looked back up at the sky.

Brenan sighed. What a thing to look forward to in the morning, he thought to himself wearily. He laid back on the ground, enjoying the warmth of the earth under him. Mamut, are you up there watching over us, he thought as he picked out a particularly bright star to watch. Brenan took a measure of strength in the thought that his old friend and mentor kept a protective eye on them all from the spirit world, and tonight was no different. Latie squeezed his thigh, and Brenan closed his eyes to a flush of warmth that rushed all the way through him.

**********

Brenan passed his morning water into the short grass on the outer edge of the camp, he looked up and over into the waning darkness of the western sky. The soft glow of the first light of the coming day framed the far horizon with a dark pastel blue color against the deep blackness of the darker skies above. Chills crept over his bare chest, and deep within him as well. Brenan had butterflies fluttering erratically throughout his empty stomach at the thought of what was to come in a little while.

Vincavec had said that it would be safer to search in the daylight, it would help them to not lose their direction in these strange lands. Brenan couldn't remember ever searching in unfamiliar territory before, the very idea of becoming lost in the spirit world scared him. It scared him bad. He took a deep breath and replaced his flaccid manhood, tucking it back inside his leggings. The soft glow on the horizon slowly increased in its intensity, he scowled at the usually welcome sight and turned to walk back to the fire.

Brenan saw Tressie bending over a small basket at the edge of the fire. The shimmering light gave her light blonde hair an almost surrealistic glow in the shadowy darkness. The badger skin medicine bag was open at her feet and for some reason the sight of it gave Brenan another soft stab of grief.

Thorec walked in from the darkness of the western perimeter, a long throwing spear in one hand and an empty tea cup in the other. He had been on guard duty with Brenan for the second watch, and he yawned when he got to the fire. He sat down across from Tressie, and yawned again, reaching over to the tea basket to remove the soft lid. A wisp of steam escaped from the top as he dipped his cup inside.

Brenan approached the fire, and sat down next to Thorec, reaching for a cup next to the steaming basket. They sipped the hot tea and watched Tressie as she prepared a small bowl with different ingredients from the pouches scattered in her lap.

"What are you making, Tressie?" Thorec asked softly, not wishing to disturb the peaceful silence of the morning any more than necessary.

"A light concoction of chamomile, datura, and raspberry leaf tea for Fralie." She answered without looking up.

"What's wrong with Fralie?" Brenan asked.

"Just a little morning sickness, I worry about her because she is so thin and frail." Tressie said, looking up at the two men with a soft smile. "She has had a little bit of a rough time the last few mornings and I thought this might help her. Fralie is in the very early stages of her pregnancy, it's being a little hard on her when she wakes up."

"Add a touch of linden flower if you have some, it will help sooth her deep queasy feelings." Matera said from behind the men as she walked up to the fire. Her long dark hair was loose and flowed over her shoulders down to the middle of her belly, thick and shining in the firelight.

"The ground up leaf or the flower itself?" Brenan asked as Matera sat down next to him.

"Either, but while the flower will work a little faster, the leaf will last longer." Tressie answered confidently, smiling at Brenan.

Brenan grinned back at her, he had asked merely to test the extent of Tressie's knowledge, and she knew it. She had been an astute student of Brenan's tutelage on the long trip they had endured together to try and save the Wolf Camp. He knew that she was more than competent now and she had probably treated more people on this journey so far than he or even Matera had. Tressie stayed busy with the little aches and pains of travel as well as the occasional sicknesses and injuries.

Matera grinned at their running conversation, as an accomplished healer herself, she never grew tired of talking about their craft. She took the cup of tea that Thorec offered and watched Tressie stir the steaming mixture with a small knuckle bone. Tressie stirred the mix for a while longer, then lifted the knuckle bone to her lips for a taste. She added a little more linden flower, just a pinch.

Frebec walked out of the tent, bare from the waist up rubbing his arms to warm his skin in the cool morning air. Tressie stood up as he approached them and handed him the carved wooden bowl, steam rose off the top. He smiled as he took it from her and muttered, "Thank you."

Tressie grinned back and said, "Give her two cups if she wants it, and give one to Regan also."

Thorec grinned despite himself at the obvious reference to Regan being pregnant too. The very thought of his promised brought a smile to his lips every time, his beautiful, lithe little woman. Her flat belly showed the very first signs of a slight bulge, a bulge that he caressed often. Thorec was one happy young man.

Frebec nodded and turned back around and walked back to the tent opening. He paused to allow Vincavec to walk out of the tent in front of him, then ducked down to go on back inside.

"Good morning." Vincavec said, walking to the fire. "Is there any tea left?"

Brenan made a sour face as Vincavec walked up to them, smiling. It reminded him of what was to come, and it made Vincavec grin even wider seeing his obvious discomfort. Brenan looked down at his bare feet, trying not to think about the search. It didn't work, he had never been able to clear his mind without going deep into meditation.

Vincavec filled a cup and sat down next to Brenan, patting his thigh. Brenan lifted his head and looked into the tattooed face, and grinned despite himself. Vincavec winked at him in return, and sipped his tea.

**********

A soft thudding was the only sound other than the crackled sputtering of the fire. Barzec moaned then started to sing a low, undulating melody without words. Marcie and Fralie joined in, mimicking his tones, one an octave higher and one somewhere in between in a pleasant dual descant. Marcie's voice was considerably deeper than Fralie's soft, almost shrill voice.

Salen and Tornec hit the ground with fat sticks wrapped in bison skins, accenting the off beat of the background drumming of the open hands on the ground all around them. The rhythms blended together nicely, in an eerie sort of way. Most of the travelers sat in a wide circle around the main fire, with Vincavec, Latie, and Brenan facing each other at the center of the circle several steps away from the main fire. A small fire burned between them in a shallow dirt pit. All three of them were bare from the waist up. Matera, Tulie, and Tressie sat back behind the three of them, watching their every move closely.

Latie pulled a light tan leather packet from a pouch on her belt, and deftly untied the knot that held it closed. She poured a measured amount of the mustard yellow ground powder into the palm of her hand, scrutinizing it carefully. She sprinkled it into a carved wooden bowl on the ground in front of her half full of warm water. Latie stirred it in with her finger, watching the water become a milky yellow.

The rhythmic drumming and soft vocals continued behind the three of them, surrounding them with the soft, persistent sounds.

Nezzie, Silvie, Tricie, and Deegie tended the small children and the babies away from the congregation on several skins laid out on the ground. Ralev was busy turning Brydag around as he tried to crawl off the skin and escape. The wide grin smeared across the toddler's face was cute and contagious, and the women all watched him work. Brydag tried to wriggle free of Ralev's grasp, but was unsuccessful. Ralev carried him back to the center of the skins, and set him back down gently on his back. Brydag rolled over and headed out again on his stocky knees, the direction didn't seem to be important. Ralev stepped back to watch, still grinning.

Latie lifted her finger to her lips, tasting the bitter, chalky liquid with the funny aftertaste. She closed her eyes, comparing the taste and the strength of the potion to the potions she had made before. Latie added another medium sized pinch of the ground sunami, and stirred it in. When she tasted it a second time, she was satisfied. Latie held the bowl out to Vincavec.

Vincavec held the bowl out in front of his bare chest, and looked up at the sky. He felt the rhythms around him, allowing them to creep inside his head slowly but in a measured way. Lifting the bowl, he took two swallows, then handed it back to Latie.

Latie took two swallows and handed it to Brenan, who did the same, then set the near empty bowl down to the ground behind him. The three of them joined hands and stared into the small fire between them. The flames curled to the side of the shallow pit with a gust of wind, reaching up in delicate fingers of bright yellow flame. Thin wisps of smoke rose up in a twisting path only to dissipate into the light breeze.

Brenan felt a wave of nausea start deep in his empty belly, followed by a slight swimming sensation in the front of his head. His balance faltered a little, and he felt power rising up his arms from the hands he held. The flames danced in front of him, growing brighter and more colorful as he concentrated on them. The beauty of the fire mesmerized him, holding him, the colors were just so bright and incredibly intense.

Latie felt the ground moving slowly under her, her head felt light and a bit dizzy. She squared her shoulders strongly and felt her whole body tingling, she felt the power rising up from deep within herself rising to the surface.

Vincavec felt the potion as it coursed through him. He examined the familiar feelings as they progressed, and at the appropriate time he lifted himself up and out of his physical body. The feeling of weightlessness overwhelmed him at first, then he conquered the sensation with his powerful mind. Vincavec hovered over the fire, and felt Latie rise up to his right side and took her hand.

Latie coaxed Brenan up and out of his body with a silent thought that penetrated his mind easily, and she took his hand as Vincavec lifted them up into the air. Spinning slowly, he led them higher and higher until the circle of travelers below them got very small.

Vincavec slowed their spin and pulled them into flight to the southwest. He looked for the river, but they couldn't see it yet, so he pulled them even higher. A low range of long, rock hills came into view, with the river bottom just past them. An eagle soared below them.

Latie saw the glimmer of water, and pulled them toward it. She sped them up and the ground below them blurred, they reached the river bank in just a few moments. They slowed and followed the river as it wound through the rocky hills and bluffs to the south. The far side of the river was heavily wooded in places, and was scattered with trees and brush between the heavier clumps.

The river narrowed and turned hard to the west at a sheer rock bluff, they slowed as they approached and Brenan's thoughts shot out into their minds.

'Ttthheerree, aaa rrraafffttt.'

The trio slowed to a hover, and dropped straight down closer to the ground. Brenan was right, there was a raft grounded up the rocky shore several steps away from the water. They saw signs of a camp, the fire pit and a lot of bare ground surrounding it. It looked like whoever had been here had stayed a few days.

They rose back up and followed the river farther south, staying high enough to see all around them for a far distance. The river started to slowly veer back to the east in a wide arc, and the low hills spread out in front of them. Vincavec slowed them, and pulled them higher up into the bright blue sky.

They hovered there for a while, looking for any signs of humans. Animals were everywhere, dotting the grounds below them. They saw nothing that resembled humans at all. No sign of any campsites, nothing.

Vincavec felt the power of the sunami as it peaked, and knew they had to go back. He sent out a powerful thought to his companions.

'Hhooomme.'

Latie turned them back to the northeast and sped them across the low hills and back over the grassy steppes. She listened with her mind and she could barely feel the rhythmic thudding and soft vocals pulling at her, and tried to follow it home. The sounds were weak and sporadic, but she felt herself pulled strangely toward it anyway. Latie went with it.

The ground blurred at the speed they traveled, and Vincavec veered them a little more westerly when he saw a thin plume of smoke in the distance. The sounds grew in volume as they got closer, pounding, thudding, pulling them. They covered the ground in a hurry, and Brenan almost lost contact with Latie's hand as they pulled up and slowed suddenly. His head ached with the constant effort and level of concentration he expended, and the waning effects of the potion. Latie dropped them down, and Brenan could see his body sitting a little crooked down below him in the center of the circle of people. The music tugged at him. With a sharp mental effort, he let go of Latie and felt his body pull him back.

Brenan's body collapsed backward and Tulie caught him in her strong hands and lowered him gently to the ground on his side and shoulder. When he looked up at Latie, he saw Tressie holding her up from behind. Matera had Vincavec wrapped in her arms, he had a sly grin on his ashen colored face. His tattoos looked a little more colorful and bright than they usually did on his pale face. Latie's eyes rolled back in her head for a moment, then she squeezed them shut and they were clear and bright when she opened them back up. Brenan felt the worry lift off his shoulders, and closed his eyes to nap.

The rhythms slowly faded, and silence washed over the small camp. The soft sounds of the fire soothed them all.

**********

Tulie wrapped a sleeping fur over Brenan, his body shivered and he rolled the rest of the way over to face the sky. The queasy feeling in his stomach grew worse. He opened his eyes and felt the warm ground beneath him, and took comfort in its solid stability and total lack of motion.

Latie and Vincavec both lay on their backs and were covered with warm furs as well. Matera caressed Vincavec's forehead gently, her eyes full of love as she looked down on him. His eyes were closed, as were Latie's.

Brenan felt a wave of chills pass through him, and when they finally subsided he took a deep breath. The early morning sky was blue and bright and streaked with thin clouds, he took another deep breath and slowly sat up.

The three searchers slowly came back to full consciousness from their mental absence. It took them a little bit to get their bearings and to feel more normal again. The pull of gravity always seemed greater after 'flying' through the air, their bodies were heavy and cumbersome. The memories of their journey came back to them in bits and pieces, and before long they were again aware of all they had just seen.

Brenan wanted to puke, but that would require standing up and he wasn't sure if he could quite manage that just yet.

The congregation around the fire broke up and scattered. Many of them crowded around the trio at the small fire, anxious to hear the results of the search. The majority, however, went back about their business. The rest of the aurochs meat still needed to be cooked and packed away, and the women had a few male helpers as they prepared to continue the process and to fix up a first meal as well.

**********

"...the only sure sign we found was an abandon raft on this side of the river near the rock bluff where the river turns to the west. There were signs of a camp having been there as well." Vincavec said.

"That is where I told Mog-ur that the river would be easiest to cross." Ludeg said.

"Well, at least we are all on the same side of the river." Talut added, scratching his beard. "I wonder how far they have gotten."

"Ludeg, the river looked to turn back to the southeast past the first of the low rolling hills, is that correct?" Brenan asked.

"Yes, it turns in a wide arc to the east around a large range of heavily wooded, taller hills before veering back to the south again." Ludeg looked over to Wymez, scrunching his forehead in thought as he continued.

"I think that there is another flat basin that begins behind the low hills and stretches almost all the way back to the river bottom."

"Yes, that's right." Wymez said in answer to Ludeg's questioning look. "There is a long, narrow oxbow lake that forms before the river is turned back to the south by a short mountain range there."

"Is that where the higher ground begins?" Talut asked.

"Yes, but the high wooded hills are not deep. The range is only half a moon's walk to cross through them, then we should be clear again." Wymez said. "After that, the country will become more wooded with gently rolling hills and a lot of creeks, valleys, and ponds."

"So what is the best direction for us to go in to try and catch up with the Clan?" Tulie chimed in, listening with fascination to their descriptions of what all lay before them. She had not traveled very extensively in her life, and never in this direction before, it was all new and definitely foreign.

Tulie's question quieted the conversation for a long time. Everyone started looking at Wymez and Ludeg, waiting for answers.

"If we cut back to the southeast, we could cut the distance considerably getting back to the river." Ludeg offered.

"That would mean cutting across the low hills at an angle which will slow us down some." Wymez said, pushing a loose tendril of hair back away from his eyes. "But it will shorten the distance to the river by several days."

"We can search again when we clear the hills, maybe we will be able to locate the Clan from there." Latie said, her voice reflecting the growing excitement she felt.

Brenan dropped his eyes, and squeezed Latie's hand a little tighter. Another search, he thought with a grimace, that will be fun. His empty stomach churned.

**********

The last of the aurochs meat came off the spit in the middle of the afternoon. The sun beat down on the camp without mercy, it was very hot with little relief from the sporadic breeze. The tents were down and everyone was packed up and ready to go, and they headed out to the southeast.

The long line formed with Talut, Danug, and Branag pairing up with Brenan, Frebec, and Barzec to pull the heavy sledges. Ludeg and Wymez led the caravan with Tulie and Salen forming up a rear guard. Ranec chased after Ralev and Brinan, the young boys always seemed to want to go their own way, only rarely in the right direction.

**********

The low rolling hills were just coming into sight out in front of the group as the sun began to set behind them. Tulie and Marsie brought them to a halt to take a break for an evening meal of cold aurochs meat and leftover vegetable stew from the feast of the night before. Having traveled for less than a half day, it was decided that they would continue on in the cool of the night following a brief rest.

Darkness set in as they moved on. The moon was just past being full and it cast enough light for them to traverse the grassy flat lands with relative ease. Ralev, Brinan and several of the younger children piled onto the backs of the sledges to ride and eventually fall asleep. Their minimal weight did little to hamper the progress of those who pulled them along.

Ludeg, Thorec, and Salen led them towards the hills with their eyes pealed looking for any signs of danger. Tathan, Gralon, and Wymez guarded the left flank while Druwez, Tornec, and Manuv walked the right. Tulie and Marsie brought up the rear again. All were heavily laden and well armed.

**********

Toward morning, they reached the base of the first of the low hills and stopped for a rest. Ludeg and Salen went out in search of fresh water to the southeast while Brenan and Druwez searched to the southwest.

The two traveling tents were set up and a quick meal was put together mostly from traveling cakes and cold meat. Both pair of men returned with full water bags from the same small creek that wound through the shallow valley. A perimeter watch was set up and the rest of the camp bed down for a nap as the sun rose.

Nezzie and Marsie took the first watch over the children, setting up a lean to for shade with a wide bison skin on the ground below. Tressie and her mother Tessie took over watching the small children after a brief nap, letting the others get some sleep.

They packed up and moved on in the middle of the morning, and some time well after noon they came up on the creek at the far side of the valley. It was a good place to stop and eat, and to bathe in the shallow, cold water. The children had almost as much fun as the adults did splashing and playing in the spring fed waters of the creek.

**********

It was a weary band of travelers that made camp at the top of the hill. They pitched the tents in a wide clear patch of ground between the numerous short trees and thick clumps of brush as the sun touched the western horizon. They were all tired and ready for a break, it had been a long, long day.

The women prepared a hot meal of reheated aurochs meat and a fresh stew of mostly young cattail shoots and some small onions and carrots they found along the banks of the creek from earlier in the day.

Everyone turned in early except for the four young men who volunteered for first watch. From the top of the small rise, it would be easy to see or hear anything that tried to approach them in the dark. Salen and Druwez stuck together walking the east and south sides, while Thorec and Danug took the north and west.

The top of the rise was ideal to catch the light evening breeze that blew in from the northeast, and it was much cooler and a little stronger than it had been down in the valley. The sky was full of bright stars and a few heavy clouds blew in as the night progressed, partially obstructing the brightness of the moon from time to time.

Wolves howled from the west and the south, a nighthawk screeched off to the east. Owls hooted from all around them, at varying distances. The night sounds were soothing and a little ominous, enough so to keep the guards awake and wary. A lion roared from somewhere out on the vast steppes behind them, telling the world of her hunting prowess and the fresh kill she had just made.

Mut's daily cycles of beauty, life, and death continued.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

_**Where There's Smoke...**_

Mog-ur sat on a flat rock on the top of the low hill. Hands clasped together in front of his chest, his fingers were pressed against each other and pointed to the dark sky, his deep brown eyes staring blankly into the dark of the night. The stars were just beginning to lose their brightness and slowly faded away as the darkness of the night surrendered grudgingly to the impending coming of light of the new day. He had gotten up at the change of the guard, unable to sleep, and come to this place of solitude to meditate.

Crag stopped walking and looked up keeping an eye on the Mog-ur, silhouetted faintly against the dark sky at the top of the gentle rise from the valley below where he walked the camp perimeter alone. The darkness of the night waned ever so gradually, and the hunt leader knew that Mog-ur hadn't slept at all this night. He wasn't too surprised at this, it was not the first time and he knew it wouldn't be the last. Holy men had always spent a lot of time alone, he figured it was how they conversed with the protective spirits and kept them close.

Mog-ur thought about the meeting with the hunting party of the other Clan. Their home cave was well out of the way of the direction that his Clan needed to go to continue their journey. To go there, it would cost way too much time, and even finding their cave might prove to be too difficult in these strange lands. Mog-ur wished they could have stopped to visit, he would really have liked to have spoken with one of his own ilk.

Oh, to speak with another Mog-ur, his mind roamed, to discuss all the strange happenings of the last year. With all the confidence he had in the correctness of their quest, it still would have been nice to have another learned man to bounce it all off of. Mog-ur was used to having to make all the major decisions for his Clan by now, but he sometimes grew weary of the heavy responsibilities he bore.

Mog-ur took a deep, cleansing breath, and focused on the single brightest star left before him. His powerful mind narrowed on the soft shimmering celestial body, studying its inherent beauty and majesty. Which hearth fire are you, he asked himself, who are you and how did you earn such high status to be the brightest hearth fire in the sky? Are you a favorite of mighty Ursus, does Ursus actually visit your hearth in the world of the spirits?

This journey has been such a strange success thus far, he thought. The river crossing was difficult, but besides Draag's injury, they had come through it all safely.

The attack of the cave lions should have cost the Clan lives, but with the improved hunting skills and weapons they had come through it relatively unscathed. No one dead, and no debilitating permanent injuries.

To see the development of the youngest, most successful hunter he had ever seen or heard of was almost unbelievable. Brug was younger than any Clan male to ever be accepted as a hunter and man of the Clan. Ever.

Etra, what a boon she had become to them all. To become a medicine woman without having been trained by another medicine woman almost from birth as usually is the case was totally unheard of. Seeing the skills she showed setting Draag's broken leg, and how well he is able to walk with the hard cast she put on the leg was inspiring. How Etra had been able to staunch the massive blood flow of the lion bite on Crag's arm and how he was able to use it completely now was equally impressive. Even Crag had said as much.

This journey has been blessed by Ursus, he knew this for certain. They would always be tested to prove themselves worthy, it was the way of the Clan.

Crag walked back to the fire and added a few fresh sticks to it, the flames were subdued for a moment and the smoke grew thicker before the sticks caught fire and brightened the area around him. He added two round cooking stones to the glowing embers at the base of the fire nearest to him, and sat down on the ground to wait. Crag scratched his arm at the top edge of the wide bandage wrapped around his forearm. It seemed to itch a lot lately, just as Etra said it would while it healed. The arm was strong, but still a little sore when he used it too much. Crag was glad that Etra felt he would have no lasting ill effects from the wound. He became lost in the flickering flames, their beauty mesmerizing him.

Mog-ur watched the star slowly lose it shimmer, and finally disappear all together in the deep blue sky. He closed his eyes and cleared his mind, then slowly went back into his memories. Searching through various meetings and discussions with his fellow mog-urs, he looked for something, but he was not exactly sure for what. Perhaps he only needed the companionship of his peers.

Brug walked out of the tent to see Crag dropping a cooking stone into a small woven basket. He carried the scabbard that held his spears in his hand, and walked over to the fire to join the hunt leader. Crag's sharp ears picked up the soft footfalls through the short grass and looked over at the boy as he approached. Brug made a sign of greeting and sat down close to the older hunter.

Crag dipped two cups into the basket and handed one to Brug who nodded in appreciation. The two men, one old and one so very young sat together in the cool morning sipping tea and watching the soft glow of the dawn.

The soft rustling of beating wings above them made them both look into the sky to try and see what they were. They caught a glimpse of a large group of long necked water fowl as the birds passed under a cloud. Black faces, white bodies. Geese. Tasty when cooked slowly in a pit oven, Crag thought, his mouth watering at the thought.

A large number of water fowl had been seen throughout their journey. The river drew them in droves, all shapes and sizes. This had not escaped Brug's attention, but had piqued his massive curiosity.

Brug's thoughts followed a slightly different course. How do you hunt these fat birds without losing your spears in the river, he wondered, thinking frantically back to all the hunting stories he had listened to over the years. Brug had never hunted water fowl before, and he suddenly had the want to do so.

'How does one hunt these birds?' He signed.

Crag was not surprised at the question, actually he had expected it. There was nothing about hunting that this young hunter was not interested in. In all his years, Crag had never seen a more diligent student. Ever.

'The secret to hunting these swimming birds are two fold.' He signed, looking into the shining eyes before him.

'The most important, is that you must notch your spear in the rear and tie a strong, thin cord into the groove. The cord must be long enough and strong enough to allow you to cast the spear and to be able to pull the spear-and the bird-back to you through the water.'

Brug's eyes were wide, he grasped the concept immediately, and Crag saw it. Crag paused before continuing, amazed.

Crag had no direct experience in this way of hunting, none at all. Everything he was telling Brug came from Rymar of the Aurochs Camp of the Others. In one of the long discussions of the many uses and advantages of the throwing spear he had explained this method, but thus far no Clan hunter had even tried it. Taking a deep breath, he went on.

'These birds have exceptionally good eyesight, one must stalk them very carefully and quietly. The sounds of moving water will help you, but they are very astute to their surroundings.'

Brug took this all in, in his mind he was already modifying one of his spears to take advantage of the smart birds.

'The other thing that is important is that you need a specially made spear tip. It has to have one side that curves back toward the rear of the spear to grab and hold your prey.' Crag signed, wondering if the young hunter would grasp this as quickly as he had everything else he was being taught. He was almost pleased at the befuddled look Brug gave him.

"Crag", I do not understand. This special spear tip, is it made of flint, or carved from bone?'

Crag was flabbergasted, and for once it showed in his expressive eyes and wrinkled brow. Rymar had told them that spear points like these were best made from bone, but how could Brug have known this? He thought back, trying to picture this discussion in his mind. Brug had not been present, of this he was sure. Crag took a deep breath, eyeing the young man carefully.

'Bone is best for this kind of spear tip.' Brug didn't look surprised, and Crag signed on.

'The spear for this kind of hunting should also be smaller and lighter. If you like, we will make you one.'

Brug's eyes lit up, and he nodded his head with more emotion than he really should have. He caught himself, and toned down his actions.

'I will hunt for a proper sized sapling.'

Crag nodded, then signed. 'It should be no bigger around than your thumb.'

Brug looked down at his thumb, quickly grasping the concept. He looked back to Crag and nodded, then finished off the cup of tea in a single, searing swallow. Brug grimaced at the hot liquid as it scorched his throat all the way down, to the subtle amusement of Crag.

Brug stood up and slung his scabbard over his shoulder, position correctly across his back. He made a quick sign, 'I will find correct trees at the river.' Waving his right arm and motioning toward his right, and was off.

Crag was left alone at the fire, he sipped the still too hot tea. Now, he wondered, what type of bone will make the best spear point?

**********

Rug led them over the top of the rise, the water of the river below them off to the right glistened and sparkled in the bright early morning sun. He veered them a little more to the left as they descended the slope at an angle, it was slick with fine loose gravel and grass still wet with dew.

Crag walked along side of Borg who carried the back end of the pole that Rug had control of the front of. The large bison skin swayed easily from side to side to their synchronized steps. Brug walked next to Crag, signing almost constantly. It had been like this since before the Clan started out. Brug was determined to know everything he needed to before starting work on his new spear. Crag answered the steady stream of questions with one hand, his injured arm was already tired from signing almost constantly. It definitely took longer to answer a question than it did to ask one.

Mog-ur walked at the end of the line acting as a rear guard, carrying a beautiful spear that Rymar and Branag had made and given him. He was the only Clan hunter in the group that had not yet learned to use the throwing spears. This is a skill I should know, he thought to himself once again. He knew he should have learned this skill during the winter at the Aurochs Camp, but there never seemed to be enough time to set aside for it. It had been such a busy winter. Perhaps the hunters can teach me a little bit at a time, he thought, I must speak to Rug about this.

**********

They traveled all day, staying within eyesight of the river. The ground was slowly starting to flatten out off to their left and the river turned back to the east slowly in a gentle turn around the rocky, wooded hills on the opposite shoreline. Trees and brush still grew thick in patches on the river bank they followed, but it all thinned out quickly as the grass lands began again.

Animal tracks were abundant and varied. Aurochs, rhinoceros, deer, swine, antelope, wolf, cats of all sizes, megaceros, wolverine, badger, hyena, and Troog even spotted some old mammoth tracks. Birds of all kinds, specially water birds were spotted and heard. Hawks and eagles, and more than a few vultures made their appearances as well. This land was rich with life, both plant and animal.

Etra and the other women filled their baskets with fresh greens and roots. Fruit was just coming into season also. The entire Clan stopped for a while to knock small green apples off a thick apple tree, filling two baskets with the tart fruit. A strawberry patch they came across was brimming with young fruit, still green for the most part. Aba and Inca gathered some anyway, they would use them as an additive to their evening tea to add flavor and tartness.

When they came to a small runoff/overflow pond that breached the gentler banks of this side of the river, Rug called a halt to the days travel. A thick group of cattails grew off to the far side of the shallow pond in the dark muddy bank. Etra wanted to harvest the shoots, and the Clan had put in a hard day anyway.

They still had some time before sunset, and tired though they were, they got busy. Camp was set up and provisioned for the night, the fire pit dug and lined, and the tents pitched in quick order. The routine was firmly established now, and they went through the motions very quickly and efficiently.

Crag had barely set down his back pack when Brug was at his side asking more questions. He took a deep breath and looked to the anxious young hunter and held up his hand to Brug to stop.

'Allow me time the to get a drink and put my things away, then we will talk.' Crag's signs were firm and showed a little of his annoyance, but not too much.

Brug nodded, and scampered off. He hadn't thought to be offended by the hunt leader, he was too excited to think of anything more than the new spear he wanted to make.

Rug came over to Crag, and dropped his own pack next to the older hunter.

'You are the cause of "Brug's" excitement, what did you tell him?'

Crag exhaled loudly. 'I simply explained "Rym-mar's" way of hunting water birds.'

Rug looked at Crag and nodded before he signed simply. 'That would do it.'

Crag nodded, then looked over to see Brug approaching with a wooden bowl that sloshed with fresh water.

**********

Rug showed Brug how to etch over the same outline on the thin pelvic bone that had come from an otter. The bone was wet and dripped water onto the wide, flat rock in his lap. He used his bone handled flint knife that the men of the Others had made and given him. Every man of his Clan had a similar knife, all were of the highest quality.

Brug watched intently, studying Rug's every move. The leader had done this many times in the last year, and it showed. His movements were crisp and precise, the groove deepened a little with every repetition.

Rug handed the pelvic bone to Brug, who took it and studied it in the waning daylight. He set it down onto the flat rock in his lap, and turned it to find a good position and promptly found one. Brug took a deep breath, and reached up to grasp his amulet for a reverent moment of silence.

Reaching down to the ground beside him, Rug picked up a partial, broken pelvic bone from a beaver and looked it over. He put it onto the rock in his lap and started to carefully draw the outline of the second spear point onto the hard, wet bone.

Crag stood up and flipped the three sapling poles that Brug had harvested this morning. He was drying them at a small fire he set up as one of the perimeter fires for the evening. The poles leaned up against the intersection of two poles he poked into the ground and tied together. All three had been scraped of all their bark and smoothed. They were all relatively straight though some work would need to be done to them before they were completely finished. The poles were stood up and leaned over to be in the heat of the fire, but well away from the flames.

Brug had decided to make three of this new type of spear and Crag thought it a wise decision. It would be easy to lose or damage the spears while learning to use them. He sat back down and started to pull apart the long, fibrous cattail leaves into thin strips which he draped over his leg. Cattail leaves made for strong, thin cordage if done correctly, and he pulled a new plant from the skin beside him that had a little standing water soaking the rest of the plants. His arm was getting tired again, and it itched something fierce.

Troog sat beside him, and was busy braiding and twisting the fibers Crag separated into a thin twine. Deftly skilled, the cordage grew steadily and wound into a small circular pile next to his hip.

The sun dropped out of sight and darkness fell. The cloud cover had increased throughout the day, and now almost half the sky was white and billowy. The breeze was cool and a little stronger than it had been during the majority of the day, gusting pleasantly. The night sounds began.

**********

Troog and Draag walked the perimeter slowly on second watch guard duty, the night was really dark. The sky was in constant motion above them with heavy clouds blowing in on the high winds. The moon was completely obscured now and appeared as no more than an occasional glow through the thinner clouds. The night was cool, the winds had picked up considerably since the sun had gone down. It was several hours until dawn.

There had been a lot of night sounds during this night, and the men on watch had been busy. It seemed that the small pond was a regular watering hole for an abundance of animals. Troog had seen glimpses of a cat, probably a lynx judging by the size of her, as she moved around the banks of the pond on the far side through a few sparse bushes. A small band of antelope had approached the pond from the flat lands to the east, but had scampered away well before reaching the edge of the water. It was impossible to tell just what had spooked them.

Several bison had come really close to the eastern edge of the perimeter fire and drank their fill from the pond. They looked to be older males, and the lynx did not show herself while they drank, nor were they intimidated by the fire. These huge animals showed little fear of anything.

A lone spotted deer stag came up from the far side of the pond along the river bank, grazing on the short grass. When he reached the bushes on the far side of the pond, the lynx made her move. The fight was loud, but brief. When the footfalls of the spotted stag sounded off to the south and going away fast, the Clan hunters could only guess at the results of the battle.

After the loud screech of the lynx, the men on watch heard little movement for a long stretch of time. They did hear the grunting of a rhino that carried easily on the winds. The sounds were muffled and it was difficult for them to gauge either the direction or the closeness of the huge beast. Both men kept their eyes pealed through the darkness, neither wanted to face an animal as unpredictable as a rhino, especially in the dark.

Troog walked the perimeter again while Draag stayed at the east fire to keep watch for the rhino. When he got to the north fire he added fuel before walking on past the main camp fire to check the south fire. Troog was surprised to find Brug sitting at the fire, working on one of the three spears he was making.

Brug gently used his knife on the broken section of the otter pelvic bone. He traced over the outline gently, deepening the groove a little at a time. He was concentrating deeply on his tasks and did not hear Troog approach.

Troog stopped and watched the young man work, then grunted softly to let him know he was there. Brug looked up and nodded, and Troog dipped a cup of hot tea from the basket near the fire. He went on to the southern fire to build it back up.

Brug felt the far edge of the bone at the reverse part of the point crack and fall away. He grasped edge of the bone and pressed against it with his fingers. Another section of the bone cracked and parted, then it was solid again. Brug started at the edge of the crack and traced the cut line back to the forward most point of the spear tip.

**********

At first light, Borg and Mog-ur came out of the tent looking for tea. Etra and Inca followed them, and quickly replenished the basket. Troog and Draag checked in at the main fire then walked out around the banks of the pond.

The amount of fresh animal tracks in the mud near the edge of the water surprised them, more animals than they had been aware of had come to drink during the night. Draag slowed when they got to the stand of cattails, and pointed off to the east. The rhino they had heard in the darkness was grazing peacefully on a tall stand of grass, she was farther away than either men would have guessed from the sounds they had heard in the night.

Draag slowed when the mud got a little deeper and stickier, his leg with the cast kept sticking when he took each step. He veered away from the edge of the pond to walk in the grass, Troog followed along beside him. Just past the cattail stand, between three straggly bushes they saw her.

The body of the lynx faced away from them, curled into a tight ball with all four legs drawn up to her chest. Her head was twisted back in an unnatural position, she looked to be dead.

Draag was the first to reach her, and he prodded the lynx in the ribs with the tip of his sharp spear while Troog stood guard beside him. The cat didn't move, and Draag rolled her over with the shaft of his spear. A large, two forked tine was imbedded in her chest, broken off the length of Draag's little finger away from her fur.

'The stag won this battle.' Draag signed with his free hand.

'The ways of Ursus are hard.' Troog answered, dropping to his knees beside the cat. He set his spear on the ground beside him and pulled his knife from the scabbard on his belt. The body of the lynx was already stiff and hard to manipulate, and the strong man of the Clan had to pull hard to separate her front legs and pull them away from her chest.

Draag looked around them in all directions, seeing nothing but a pair of vultures circling high above them under the billowy clouds. He dropped to his knees to help Troog skin out the lynx and harvest her valuable teeth and claws.

Mog-ur watched Brug pull the spear point away from the rest of the pelvic bone. Brug held it up and examined it from all angles. He took his knife and smoothed away a few ragged shards that clung to the edges, and looked it over again. Two other carved points lay on the ground next to him.

Crag walked up with three spear poles in his hands, and sat down next to Brug. He took a cup of tea from Inca with a grunt of appreciation and watched Brug trim the point of the bone with his knife. Crag picked up the two spear tips from the ground to look them over. The shapes were well made, it would take a lot of time to sharpen them, though, some of the edges were still quite thick.

Brug started scraping the thickest edge of the point he held, pulling the sharp flint blade toward him with measured force. Crag reached over and stopped him, and held out one of the bone points and showed Brug how to push with the knife blade away from his hands instead of pulling it toward his hand. Brug nodded, and changed the direction of his knife. After three slightly awkward strokes, he looked up at Crag and nodded. He went back to work.

Mog-ur watched the conversation between the hunt leader and the Clan's newest hunter. It was short but rather detailed. Brug asked more questions than Mog-ur thought possible about such a simple looking task. He was amazed at the patience that Crag showed, answering each question with full replies. The way his Clan worked together so selflessly was so good to watch, it could be the difference between their survival and the failure of their quest. Mog-ur reached up to grasp his amulet, and silently gave thanks to the great grey wolf.

**********

The winds had picked up by late afternoon, gusting strongly and erratically. The cloud cover was complete, no blue shown through at all. The taste of rain was in the air.

Rug led them to a thick stand of short trees just up river that spread out away from the muddy banks. There was just enough room between the trunks to set up one of the traveling tents. He decided that they would all sleep in one tent tonight, thinking that the coming storm would hit them well before dawn.

A large flock of ducks flew off the river as they approached the stand of trees. Brug watched them, studying their every move. How they took off from the surface of the water, the configuration they made as they took to the skies. Little about their movements escaped him.

Crag was aware of Brug's scrutiny of the spooked ducks. He watched the young hunter just as Brug watched the ducks. His instincts are good, he thought, he will learn to hunt these birds. Crag was proud of Brug's focus when it came to any aspect of hunting, though it was tiring at times teaching him.

Borg, Troog, and Crag started gathering rocks from around the campsite and hauling them over. Draag, Rug, and Brug built a short retaining wall around the slight uphill side of the tent, packing the rocks tightly together. They made the wall three hands high and in a large semi-circle around the eastern edge of the tent. It was hard, time consuming, dirty work.

Mog-ur and Etra dug out a central fire pit out in front of the tent in a clear place between three trees. They were stymied often by thick tree roots, and Mog-ur used Draag's hand axe to cut through them. Slowly the pit took shape, and they finally got it deep enough and lined it with rocks.

There would be no perimeter fires tonight, but Aba and Ova stretched a megaceros skin between the lower limbs of three trees as a rain cover. The skin was just high enough off the ground for them to stand without hitting their heads on it. They lined the ground under the skin with flat rocks leftover from the retaining wall.

Inca put together a meal with cold, cooked antelope meat and warmed over carrots and cattail shoots. By the time the tasks were complete, darkness was setting in. The first flashes of lightning began while they ate, and the thunder rolled in booming all around them. The Clan all found it unnerving, except for Mog-ur who rather enjoyed the rare show of Ursus' power. The scent of the air reflected the odd smells caused by the lightning. Rain didn't start right away, but the light show above them grew more intense as the evening wore on.

Brug surprised Mog-ur by volunteering for guard duty to take the first watch. As a man of the Clan, he was actually expected to be included in all such duties. Since the watch would be mostly confined to the camp fire and the rain covering beyond, he looked to Rug to make the decision.

Rug grunted to Brug, then signed. 'I will take first watch with you.'

The look on Brug's face was one of total satisfaction. This was the first time he would be included in one of the night watches, and he felt a little taller when he stood up and gathered up his spears and scabbard from inside the tent.

The wind picked up in hard gusts and the first raindrops fell, fat and hard they came down at an angle. The fire was stoked up high and hot and everyone but Rug and Brug retreated inside the crowded tent. A bright bolt of lightning flashed across the sky just as Brug got under the protective skin, it lit up the land all around them. The young man cringed with the crack of thunder that followed, Rug put a steadying hand on his shoulder.

Rug started building a short retaining wall from the leftover paving stones on the east edge of the skin covering. Brug quickly helped as the rainfall increased in earnest. The rain blew into their small protected area a few steps, but with the paving stones the water ran off and didn't puddle too badly. Thunder cracked again, and this time Brug didn't flinch but kept working on the wall. The water was already starting to run around the wall and past them.

The fire sputtered and smoked heavily as some of the rain made it through the tree covering, but burned on. Rug kept an eye on it, not wanting it to falter, they had piled up dry firewood both under the rain break and just inside the tent also. They finished the retaining wall and scooted back out of the rain. Both men's tunics were soaked, and cold in the brisk wind.

The Clan leader walked quickly over to the fire and pulled a thick, flaming limb from the bottom of it. He carried it back to the rain cover and set it down in the center of the dry part of the rock covered ground. Both men warmed their hands in the warmth of the burning limb.

Rug picked up a sleeping fur from back side of the dry rocks, and slipped it over Brug's shoulders, he wrapped the other fur over his own and they sat down to watch the rain in the darkness. The fire gave flickering light, but it wasn't bright enough to see much. The rainfall increased, and lightning lit up the sky. The thunder rolled.

**********

At the watch change, Troog and Borg came out to relieve the tired guards. Few inside the tent had gotten very much sleep, the noise of the rain and the constant booming of thunder was hard to sleep through. The retaining walls worked well enough, the majority of the runoff was diverted past the tent and the watch area. The fire was still going strong, but it took a lot of effort to keep it fed.

Brug and Rug had heard nothing past the noise of the storm, if animals were close they had all gone undetected thus far. The two men were anxious to get inside the dryness of the tent and get their wet clothes off.

Troog and Borg settled in, watching the light show above them. The drumming of the raindrops on the heavy megaceros skin overhead was soothing, but loud. Thunder cracked, and another lightning bolt lit up the dark sky.

**********

Toward dawn, the rain started to decrease. The last bolts of lightning had started to get closer, and from the sounds of the loud cracks of thunder, they may have even hit the ground out on the flat lands to the northeast. Both men kept watching for any tell tale signs of a grass fire—or worse, but they saw nothing yet.

The wind was still strong and gusting, but the cloud cover was gradually starting to break up. The high winds pushed the heavy clouds on past them, leaving smaller, thinner clouds in their wake. The rains diminished all together as the first light of dawn crept over the wet lands.

Far to the northeast, a wide plume of smoke rose into the sky.

**********

Brenan, Druwez, and Danug met up at the central camp fire. They had just made a round walking around the three perimeter fires, refueling them. It was the second watch, and they still had quite a while to go before the new day would be born.

A light, short rain had come through just as darkness fell but it had dissipated quickly. They were on the far outer edge of a large thunderstorm system, and the humidity hung on them, sticky and damp. The light show from the numerous bolts of lightning had been marvelous to watch, and it still continued though far less frequently to the south and more so to the southwest. When the storm had blown on by them, the gusty winds slowed and started shifting and coming from a more southerly direction. The new winds from the south were much warmer, with softer, but more frequent gusts.

"Nice to see the stars again." Druwez said, gazing up at the rapidly clearing sky. He was happy to be included in the daily rotation of younger men who regularly did the majority of the guard duty watches. Druwez was growing up.

"It is." Danug said in answer, and went on with a sly grin. "They are like old friends to me, I miss them when they hide out up there."

"I guess," Brenan added, smiling, "they are your only friends when you travel by yourself. I do know what you mean. I spent a few nights alone with them too."

Druwez stared at a bright cluster of stars shaped like the outside of an axe with a short handle, wondering what it was like to travel all by yourself. No one else around, all alone except for the many creatures of Mut's wide world. Depending solely on yourself to survive. It was a scary, but exhilarating prospect. One day, he thought, one day I'll go off alone in search of adventure. Then, when I return I'll have interesting stories to tell that will captivate all the young women...just like these guys.

**********

It was still a little while before the first signs of dawn when Druwez scampered back to the main fire, Brenan sat alone sipping tea. Danug was out walking out between the northern and eastern fires.

"Brenan, there's something strange on the southern horizon." His voice was hushed, but laced with excitement. "Come look."

Brenan yawned. "Is the rising sun that unfamiliar to you?"

"Brenan, if it was the glow of the dawn do you think I would be bothering you?" Druwez answered, slightly put off by his older friend's nonchalant attitude.

Brenan grinned, then yawned again as he stood up. "All right, lead the way."

Druwez led them past the glow of the southern most fire and then several steps out into the short grass. When Brenan's eyes adjusted to the darkness, he looked at what Druwez pointed at. In the far distance on the horizon to the southwest a low, faint orange glow shimmered just within the far reaches of their eyesight. Dull, with little fingers of yellow occasionally appearing at the top, and shimmering. Constantly shimmering. Whatever it was, it looked totally unnatural.

"Go and get Danug." Brenan said simply. Druwez took a long final look at the strange sight, and walked back toward the camp quickly.

Brenan stared at the odd sight, searching his mind for anything that might give it meaning. It looked vaguely familiar, but he had trouble placing it.

Danug sided up to Brenan, with Druwez next to him. When his eyes got used to the darkness, he exhaled loudly. "Oh Mother, that's a grass fire. We'd best wake the others."

"Why? If it's just a grass fire, what is so bad about that?" Druwez asked.

"What are you standing in Druwez?" Brenan said simply.

Druwez looked to his feet, then understood. He felt a small wave of chill bumps crawl up his spine.

"Go and get Talut, Vincavec and Branag. Do it quickly and quietly, please."

Druwez heeded Danug's command without thinking, starting back to the tents. His young mind ablaze with excitable thoughts. He stooped over and entered the eastern tent, and made his way through the extended feet and heads at the center, narrow isle. Talut and Nezzie were usually close to the far end of the tent, and he wished he had used the back entrance. Carefully stepping over sprawled legs and lumps of furs, he stepped down lightly on an ankle.

"Oommph." Frebec moaned, he rolled over and sat up quickly. "What? What is it Druwez?" He asked blinking and reaching out for the long spear he kept beside him.

Druwez looked down at him, his hair was loose and cascaded over most of his face in stringy waves. He stifled a grin, and whispered. "There is fire on the horizon."

Frebec bolted up into a sitting position, and grabbed his leggings. He struggled to get them on while Druwez worked his way back through the tent. Frebec tied his wide belt around his waist, and picked up his spear before standing up. He quickly covered Fralie and Crisavec back up with the sleeping fur they had kicked off their lower bodies. Frebec had kept a spear next to him every single night of the journey thus far. It was a habit he had developed since a fateful night a snow leopard had attacked Branag and himself a long time back on a different journey.

Talut and Tulie both stepped outside the tent from the rear entrance, and came around the side at the same time as Frebec did. They met up and walked together toward Danug and Brenan whose silhouettes were barely visible in the darkness outside the ring of light from the fire. Both had pulled on their leggings, but were bare chested as was Frebec. Tulie's huge breasts swayed back and forth across her chest as she walked.

Druwez came out of the second tent with Vincavec, Matera, and Branag. They followed the others back over to where Brenan and Danug waited.

Latie and Nezzie fell in behind them, coming out of the other tent. Latie carried Bralut under one arm and had a lion skin fur complete with mane, wrapped around her otherwise nude body. Nezzie had wrapped a huge bison hide over her shoulders and around her ample waist, holding it in place with her elbow.

Congregating in the darkness with the guards, it took a little for their eyes to get acclimated. They all stared at the soft, faint glow shimmering in the distance. It was quiet, really quiet, for a long time.

Matera pulled a small pinch of her long hair up in front of her face. She watched the fine, dark strands blowing softly back at her and dropped them. Her hair when loose as it was now reached just past her navel, splitting her bare chest into twin dark streaks.

"It's coming right at us." Vincavec said softly.

"That it is." Matera replied.

"How far are we from the river?" Tulie asked.

"Probably two days walk from here." Vincavec answered. "Two hard days."

It got real quiet again, and stayed that way for a long few moments. The light glow grew very slightly brighter as a short line of yellow stretched across the top momentarily, then slowly disappeared again.

"Why is it shimmering like that, it almost looks alive." Druwez asked.

"That's the smoke and the distance distorting how it looks, it seems to be a pretty big fire." Latie said, hugging Bralut to her breast. He squirmed in his sleep, and opened his mouth to inform Latie of his displeasure but a well placed nipple gave him no further reason to complain.

"Some people believe that wild fires are alive, the old legends tell of them eating whole mountains up at a time." Nezzie said, staring off at the shimmering horizon.

"One legend tells of a wild fire that couldn't stop eating, its hunger was just too great. The more it ate, the more it wanted. It ate all the trees and the grass, and finally ate its way all the way to the sea, and then it could eat no more. It was so hot by then that the seas boiled and a mountain was born beneath the water. It rose up past the hot, boiling surface pushing up into the sky. It formed a small island out in the sea." Nezzie paused, then finished her story.

"Then the mountain blew its top off into the sky, raining rocks and boulders into the water and onto the land. Then hot melted rock poured out from the hole in the top of the mountain and it ran down its sides and finally into the water. The sea water boiled and white smoke rose into the air. The wild fire saw this magic and was finally satisfied, then it disappeared in a wide plume of dark smoke."

It stayed quiet following Nezzie's telling of the ancient legend, everyone lost in their own thoughts. They all new this story, it was told often by the traveling story tellers and at the summer meetings to the children. Most had given it no thought for years, but they considered it now.

"We need to get ready for it, its coming right for us." Branag said breaking the silence, he looked directly at Talut.

"We could try to outrun it, but which way will it come?" Talut said, looking at Vincavec and Matera beside him.

"It may be better if we stay put and try to prepare the camp to ride it out." Vincavec mused. "We are likely to see stampeding herds long before it gets to us. It would be dangerous if they caught us unaware."

Matera shot him a look of surprise, she hadn't thought of that very real possibility. "How can we get this camp ready to withstand a stampede—or a grass fire?"

"Good question." Branag said, then looked at Talut and went on. "Talut, how do we get ready?"

Nezzie grinned up at her tall, muscular mate. She reached up and grasped his thick fore arm and pulled her body up against him. Talut lifted his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling her tight. He thought for a moment, then grinned down at Nezzie and kissed her lightly on the lips. When he lifted his head back up, he looked first to Tulie, then over to Branag.

"Well," Talut began, "I guess first we need to..."

**********

The small herd of aurochs rumbled past the camp to the east just as the first light of dawn showed over the horizon. It was still dark enough for the four fires of the camp to spook them and cause them to veer away, but they did come by pretty close. The thundering of their heavy hooves and the loud snorts and bellows got the attention of the entire camp.

Salen and Jozen anchored the small phalanx of men and women who ringed the eastern edge of the camp, all armed with spear throwers to repel the crazed beasts. They all breathed a sigh of relief when they went by.

The camp was a flurry of activity, people engaged in different tasks all over the place. As the sun came up, the smoke from the fire darkened the southern skies. It dissipated slightly as it rose and blew toward the camp, but the smell of burning grass hung over the entire land. The fire had changed its direction slightly, driven ahead by the warm winds coming out of the south. It was definitely heading right at them.

Danug and Talut strained together pulling a heavy, wide sledge loaded with the heaviest bundles of personal possessions they could find. A thick pole was tied to the back sledge support poles at ground level. The ground was wiped clean of the majority of the short grass and small stones as they pulled it in a sweeping arc on the southwest side of the perimeter. Bare dirt left in its wake.

Deegie, Silvie, and Tricie followed behind them pulling up the clumps of grass that weren't pulled up by the sledge. They also gathered the grass that worked itself free from the back pole as it overflowed. Each of the women had a skin over their shoulder to gather up the clumps, all were filling quickly.

Druwez and Mortan used torches to burn the remains of grass clumps that were too large to pull up and had made it past the sledge. Small fires burned all around them as they cleared the ground.

Branag and Thorec stood by to clear the back pole of the sledge when Talut and Danug slowed to turn. They made a pile of the gravel, dirt and grass. Talut and Danug started back to the west, carving a fresh clear path overlapping the first. Branag and Thorec pulled the grass clumps from the pile, tossing them aside, and used their hands to gather the dirt and stones onto a bison skin on the ground.

When they had the skin piled high with dirt, they dragged it back toward the camp. There was a good size pile growing near the main camp fire.

Nezzie and Jaycie had all the water bags gathered up and laid out on the ground in between the two tents in a row. There were twenty bags, but almost half of them were less than full.

Tulie and Barzec piled up the sleeping furs from the entire camp into the center of the west tent. It was up over the middle of her thigh high by the time they finished.

"Salen, rhino!" Jozen called out over his shoulder. He pulled his spear thrower into position and watched the huge beast lumber toward them from the southwest. Jozen was twenty steps farther out from where Talut and Danug toiled dragging the sledge on its third go around.

Salen, Thorec, and Regan all ran to him, well armed with their spears throwers out and ready. Brenan, Latie, and Frebec ran over from the east side of the camp where they had been working. They all carried their spear throwers in one hand and scabbards of extra spears in the other.

Talut and Danug heard the cry and spotted the rhino, they stopped pulling the sledge, and Danug started to lean down to get out from under the heavy cross pole. Talut reached over and touched his arm, Danug stopped. He grinned at the younger version of himself and pointed over to the group assembling where Jozen stood, and Danug smiled, understanding. They both leaned back to watch.

The huge beast lumbered at them, head down and running close to full speed. The seven of them formed a wide semi-circle, several steps apart. The rhino slowed a bit lifting her head up and smelling the odd smell of the human camp, but her eyesight wasn't good enough to locate any particular danger. Rhinos had very few natural enemies.

Jozen and Brenan were the first to let fly, the rhino still a little too far for much real damage to be done by the light spears. The skin of a full grown adult rhinoceros was very thick and tough, and neither spear penetrated very deeply, but it did anger her. They had hoped to run her off, it didn't work, she lowered her head a bit more and stepped up her speed.

The second volley of spears was thrown from better range, though one spear missed wide and another glanced off her hard head, three struck deeply into her chest and shoulder. Two more spears quickly followed, both hitting her in the chest. She was getting closer, but bleeding profusely from the wounds.

The rhino slowed and her gait faltered, she favored her left front leg. Another volley of spears flew, hitting her in the neck, chest and shoulder. She slowed and bellowed out in pain and frustration. The rhino stumbled once, then again before dropping to her front knees and falling forward onto her face, shattering spears. She hung there for a moment, then rolled over onto her side, he back legs still kicked and quivered. Then she was still.

**********

By mid morning, the smoke was thick, low, and abundant blowing over the camp in hot clouds. Most of the time it rose over them, but a few wind gusts brought it down through the camp in choking thick tendrils. Dark and foreboding, it made breathing hard and foreshadowed the coming fire ominously.

Most of the fire break had been cleared, and the last sprigs and clumps of grass were being pulled up or burned out. A busy crew of men and women skinned and butchered the rhino, stacking the meat on several sections of its own thick hide. Ranec sawed on the base of the long lower horn with a very sharp flint knife, working his way around it a little sliver at a time. The horn was long and sharp, and nearly perfectly shaped.

A short mound of dirt and small rocks harvested from the dragging of the sledge ringed the southern perimeter of the camp. It started where the first clearing of the sledge began. This was the last line of defense if all else failed.

The west tent had been broken down and moved over beside the tent on the east side of the central fire. They set it back up, only a few steps away from the other tent, forming a narrow aisle between them. All the baggage and supplies were stashed away neatly in the southern most tent, and the large pile of sleeping furs was moved into the northern tent along with all the water bags.

Nezzie, Fralie, Marsie, and Deegie kept up with the children. The babies were kept inside the northern tent on a thick pallet, and Deegie and Fralie tended them. The older children were inside also, Nezzie and Marsie had them busy setting out the folded sleeping furs into small piles around the perimeter of the tent. Ralev and Crisavec were working together, with Tasher following them around, trying to help.

The jagged line of fire was coming fast, and straight at the camp. It ran well to the east of them, but they could see where it petered out. There seemed to be no end to it to the west, the flames were visible for as far as the eye could see. Smoke in both dark and light colors, thick and thin, darkened the morning sky.

Talut picked up one of the rhino's heavy rear legs, he struggled to get it up as high as his chest. Sweat poured off him, and another low cloud of smoke blew through causing him to cough.

Danug grabbed the foot and helped Talut hold it up while Brenan, Latie, and Stolie went to work cutting through the tough skin and to the thick slabs of meat hidden underneath. They held the bloody pieces out to Tulie and Frebec who piled them up on an already tall stack of meat.

Thorec and Branag struggled pulling a huge pile of meat on the skin from the belly of the rhino toward the camp. Barzec and Rymar followed behind them tugging a skin of their own. The older men had a little trouble keeping up with Branag and Thorec, but all of them made good, steady progress.

"Whoa!" Jozen said under his breath, looking through the low clouds of smoke to the west.

"Oh great Mother." Salen said beside him.

The two men were watching their western flank, laden with hunting weapons. It was hard to see very far now, the fire was coming in an uneven, jagged line. The western edge of the fire was now far past the eastern front, and seemed to be picking up speed through the taller grass.

Through the breaks in the low hanging smoke, both men caught glimpses of tan colored animals coming their way. There were several of them they could see so far. It looked to be a pride of cave lions.

"Talut, we've got company coming!" Salen called out.

Talut and Danug looked to see what they were looking at, but could see nothing through the smoke. Vincavec and Gralon hurried over from the other side of the rhino, both had bloody hands and knives clenched in their fists.

Martag, Tornec, and Wymez had the watch to the east side of the camp, and looked to see what the commotion was about. They saw nothing but a small band of horses in the distance to the southeast, running away from the smoke in a hard gallop. They turned and watched Vincavec and Gralon grab long throwing spears from the ground next to the body of the rhino and hurry over to the western guards.

"Go with them, I'll stay here." Wymez said. Both men hurried away.

Wymez looked back at the fleeing horses, and saw a huge tan cat between the horses and the camp. It looked like a saber toothed tiger, but it was too far away to be sure. Wymez' long distance vision wasn't as good as it once was, but the cat was not heading even remotely toward them. He kept his eye on him anyway.

"All done." Brenan said, sitting back away from the under side of the rear leg of the rhino. Latie and Stolie had already finished and gone back to the front of the beast, still cutting away.

"Lions, lions coming from the southwest!" Salen called out, seeing the pride more clearly through a sizable break in the low hanging smoke. He counted eight—no nine in all. All adults, with one heavy maned male leading them. They ran in a brisk trot, their direction varying as they came.

The leading edge of the fire to the west was almost even with the camp and surging forward, though still far away. The line cut back in a long, broken diagonal to the fire out in front of them. It surged forward again on the far eastern edge.

The guards formed a wide phalanx, shaped in a sweeping arc to face the lions approach. They cleared a low thin cloud of whitish, grey smoke and veered again to the northeast.

Spears and spear throwers were pulled up and into position, the men grew tense. Watching, waiting.

Talut and Danug dropped the heavy leg, and hurried to grab their own spears. They ran over to the other hunters, getting in position on the southern side of the formation. The lions came on.

The large male lion suddenly saw the men out in front of him, and smelled the blood of the rhino at about the same time. The fear of fire and the heavy smoke gave him pause over his sense of hunger, and he quickly turned again more to the north. The females and one young adolescent male followed his lead. The lions passed the camp fifty or sixty steps out, heading due north. They picked up their pace, going by quickly. The lead male kept a sharp eye on the band of humans as they passed. He grunted as he ran, low pitched and fearsome sounding.

The flames of the fire out in front of them were fanned by a hard gust of hot winds from the southeast. It pushed the fire harder and faster from the eastern most front. Heavy clouds of dark and light smoke blew through the camp area in thick streaks, pushed low by the winds.

"Let's get back to camp, all of us." Talut commanded when it was obvious that the lions would be no threat.

The men broke up and headed back to camp in twos and threes. Talut caught up to Barzec and Rymar, and grabbed the skin between them to help them pull. The three of them picked up speed with the added muscle, and they hurried toward camp. Jozen, Brenan, and Danug grabbed the last skin of meat and followed Latie and Stolie back to camp. The smoke grew thicker around them.

Tulie and Silvie poured water on the southern side of the tent, drenching the heavy leather, almost everyone else was already inside. Danug helped wrestle the last skin of meat inside the southern tent then pulled the flap closed behind him. Between the tents he saw the two women working on wetting the tent, and took the water bag from Silvie when he reached them and took over for her. Taller with much longer reach, he and Tulie soaked the top with long pours from the bags. Silvie thanked Danug and ducked inside the tent.

Danug and Tulie finished with the northern tent, then went to the southern tent wetting it out as well. Finishing the outsides with a second water bag each, they tossed the empties inside. The tent flaps were tied closed, and the last of the water poured over both sides of the skins. It was hot inside, and already smelled of smoke.

**********

Brenan, Thorec, and Jozen sat out at the southern edge of the camp. They all had sleeping furs drenched with water wrapped around them. Each man had a de-haired bison skin and a full water bag behind them in case the fire skipped over the break and got too close.

The smoke was thick and breathing was getting really difficult, they used the wet furs to cover their faces up to eye level, and breathed through the fur as best as they could. The wind gusted and blew the smoke up for a moment, and the leading edge of the flames were easily visible out in front of them. The smoke danced before them, swirling and curling in the winds. The line of flames were almost to the fire break now, each man held his breath, anxious to see the results of all the hard work that went into building it.

The smoke dropped down again and covered them. Brenan coughed and felt his eyes watering. He couldn't see far through the smoke, and tucked his whole head under the soaked fur. It was hard to breath, but he coughed a few more times and started trying to take shallower breaths. He heard Jozen and Thorec coughing as well from each side of him. Over the crackling and popping of the fire he could also hear a lot of coughing and gasping from the tent behind him, though the sounds were soft and seemingly far away. He heard the soft, muted cries of an infant, and knew it was Bralut. Brenan had heard the sound often enough, and could identify the cry of the son of his hearth easily. He felt a pang of worry for the stocky little boy and for his mate as well, but knew that he was in the best position where he was right now to best help and protect them.

Brenan took as deep a breath as he could, and looked back out in front of him. The fire had stopped at the break, a few flames from blowing grass stood out in the bare dirt, but nothing more. To his right and left sides, the fire was even with him and working its way past the camp and on to the north. His eyes watered up again, stinging something fierce, and he buried his head back in the soft, wet fur.

The sounds of the fire surrounded them. Smoke hung low and dense covering the ground and swirling in the breeze. Small fires riding the burning blades of grass dropped all over, most to burn out quickly. Glowing thin tendrils of red hot ash and bright embers floated over the ground, light on the winds. Several landing on the men and the tents as well. The wet furs and tent sides were protected well enough from the light assault, but the smoke they generated was thick and heavy.

**********

The sight of the charred ground and low, delicate fingers of smoke rising up all around them gave them all pause as the tent started to empty out slowly and cautiously. Small patches of grass still burned in spots all around, but mostly the fire was well past them now.

Nezzie and Fralie kept the children and babies inside until the air cleared out more, but the adults all came out to see. The fire had indeed passed them by, the fire break worked as well as it could have. The camp was now a small green and tan island in a sea of charred black, smoking ground.

The winds continued to gust lightly, and the air cleared slowly. The fire raged on behind them to the north, and the wall of smoke darkened the skies before it. The sun was hot and the air dry and hot as well. It was still hard to breath deeply, but it got easier as the winds carried the smoke away from the camp. A few small clouds blew in on the upper currents, but they were no real break from the bright rays of the powerful morning sun.

It was quiet, and almost serene outside now. The vast steppes to the far east were left completely untouched, and the lands to the southeast and all the way back to the west were all black and smoldering. The contrasts were startling to see, green and tan—then black and grey. Clear skies, then hazy smoke, side by side. Life continued on one side, and would have to be regenerated on the other. Such were the ways of Mut.

"Tulie, I'm hungry. Will you put some of that fresh rhinoceros meat on the spit?" Talut asked, his eyes squinting against the smoky air.

Tulie stared at her sibling first with a mean look, then her face changed slowly into a grin. Then she started chuckling.

People around her stopped to stare at her, then they got tickled too. Before long, laughter rang out all over the camp. No one laughed as loud as Talut, though, no one ever did.

**********

There was no question as to the direction they needed to go. At least not at first, they headed for the green pastures to the southeast. Crossing the blackened grass lands made for easy walking, but light, floating ash got into everything and as a camp they were getting short on water.

Ludeg led them to the south, southeast, aiming straight for the green and tan line in the distance. The ash made dragging the sledges rather easy, and it helped them to make good time. With every small gust of wind, more ash blew up off the ground. Light and fragile, the burned blades of grass swirled and floated on the air currents leaving black streaks on everything they touched. Most of the traveling band of people wrapped light skins around their necks and faces with just their eyes and noses exposed. More than a few had a hacking, lingering cough that just wouldn't quite go away.

Buzzards and vultures circled the skies in many different places, marking fallen animals. The herd animals, all the grass eaters were all out of sight. On the steppes, this was a rare occurrence, and made for a slightly disturbing visual.

Predators and scavengers showed up steadily all throughout the morning as they made their way across the dark, slick ground. Lumps scattered around in the distance gave proof to the many dangers of large grass fires. Many animals were killed, and it would be a variable buffet for the meat eaters. They came in numbers that were almost unbelievable to the travelers. Never had any of them seen such a variety of meat eaters in one place.

**********

They reached the unburned grass late in the afternoon. The wind had shifted direction slightly throughout the long day's walk, now coming from the southeast again. The sun was bright and the sky clear but for a few long, thin, almost transparent clouds that floated high in the blue sky above.

A lone male megaceros stood off to the east near a short, deep green bush with orange berries that stood out against the background of the light green grass. He watched them between taking bites of soft leaves, with no outward sign of fear. The tremendous spread of his magnificent antlers were a sight to behold, fearsome and huge. Unmatched by any other animal in all of Mut's vast world.

Talut couldn't keep his eyes off the stag, the very sight of him made his mouth water. The big man was hungry, again, he trudged on.

The first of the low hills became visible on the far southern horizon a little before the sun touched the top of the ground behind them. Camp was made for the night, and it was a very tired group of people that went about the many chores required at the end of this long, hard day.

Brenan and Matera got together and cooked up a large bowl of a thick, sweet and tangy tasting mixture to help suppress the hacking coughs due to smoke ravaged throats. It was thick and syrupy, but very effective. Matera enjoyed working with Brenan, she loved testing the young healer and was pleasantly satisfied with his knowledge and acumen.

A light meal of traveling cakes and warmed over thick strips of aurochs meat was served as darkness fell. By the time a second basket of tea was ready, few were still up and awake to enjoy it.

Latie came out of the tent with Bralut cradled in the crook of her arm. He waved one pudgy little hand around, settling on a fold of Laties open tunic, and tugging on it as he nursed contentedly.

"I counted four full, and three almost full water bags." She said to Tulie who sat between Talut and Barzec. "That's all the water we have left."

Tulie nodded, and looked at Talut. "Will it last us through tomorrow?"

"Maybe, if we're really careful." She answered, though without much confidence in her voice.

"We'll find water in the hills up ahead, but I think we need to leave early before it gets too hot." Tulie answered, thinking aloud.

"Well, I'm going to get some sleep then." Talut said, yawning and standing up. "Brenan, will you organize the night watch?"

Brenan looked up at Talut, yawning himself. "Go on and get some sleep, I'll handle it."

Talut nodded, and walked over to the closest tent. Brenan yawned again, then looked around the fire to see who all was left awake. Ludeg, Salen, and Thorec sat together with Regan and Stolie sipping tea. Close to them, Barzec, Ranec, and Gralon sat with Silvie and Deegie.

"Brenan, you take the second watch with Ludeg." Thorec said, and continued. "Salen and I will take first watch."

"I'll help you." Druwez said, standing up and stretching his long, lean body. Brenan watched him, thinking that the boy had grown taller just since they had begun this journey.

"Thanks, guys." Brenan said, standing slowly. He was more tired right now than he could remember being in a long, long time. It had been a trying last few days. Latie followed him back to the tent, Bralut tugging on her tunic and pulling it off her shoulder as she walked. She reached up and pulled it back, and got a sly grin from the fat faced little boy who started pulling on it again.

**********

Just before the shift change for the second watch, Salen heard the first soft snarls. Druwez heard it too, and went over to the west side of the camp to investigate. The perimeter fire there had burned down, and he fed it fresh fuel quickly. Salen came up from the southern fire.

"Did you hear that?" Druwez asked, his eyes wide.

"Yes, wolves I think. Sounded like they are pretty close." His eyes searching the darkness as he spoke softly. "Get Thorec, and build up the other perimeter fires. Do it quickly."

Druwez scampered off, and Salen took a deep breath and leaned against his spear in the flickering firelight. He opened his mouth slightly and concentrated on his surroundings, all his senses sharp and alert. The acrid smell of burned grass still hung in his sinuses, and adversely affected his sense of smell. It would probably be days before he was completely back to normal in this aspect.

A soft swish through the knee high grass to his left, a moving shadow just past that. A glimpse of red eyes in the moonlight, then another, disappearing as fast as they had appeared. More movement and soft sounds off farther to the right in the clumps of taller grass. Sudden retreat, muted footfalls through the grass, soft sounds all over.

Thorec came up behind Salen, his eyes adjusting to the darkness on the far side of the smoky fire. He put his hand on Salen's shoulder.

"What do you think?" He asked, whispering softly.

"I'm not too sure, they backed off when they saw you coming." Maybe they will just go away, he thought—he hoped.

"Any idea how many there are?" Thorec's eyes searched the darkness.

"Nope."

Druwez joined them, a lightweight spear for the spear thrower in one hand and his spear thrower in the other. He walked up quietly, but even with his soft steps it caused more movement to the south as he approached.

Sudden yipping to the east, three quick, short barks and then it was returned from the south. Another series of yips from behind them, and all their eyes grew wide.

"Go and wake the hunters, they are surrounding the camp and there are a lot of them. Hurry." Thorec said softly to Druwez. Druwez nodded and backed off.

"Take this side, but keep close to the fire or you won't be able to see them." Thorec said, and moved to the south toward the other perimeter fire.

Salen saw them moving, several shapes encroaching in the darkness to his left, trying to flank him. Another glimpse of moving shadows to the right, they were indeed trying to surround him—and the camp. He lifted his spear, readying it, shifting his grip slightly until it felt right.

Thorec knelt down and tossed another wide disc of dried dung onto the flames. He saw the shadows shift as he stood back up slowly. Again, more shapes moved off to his right.

Men and women alike, all well armed began streaming out of the tents. They started taking up positions between the outboard fires, they were not very quiet about it and talked amongst themselves. It caused a flurry of fresh movement out in the shadows.

The wolves started yipping in the darkness, the sounds came from every direction, all around the camp. The first probes began.

A trio of wolves darted in from the south. Thorec and Brenan saw them coming and just as they were about to let their spears fly the wolves turned abruptly and were suddenly gone back into the darkness.

A pair of wolves came into the edges of the firelight from the north. Tulie and Rymar readied to throw, but they too scampered back into the safety of the night.

Another probe from the west, another retreat.

"Guard the tent entrances!" Talut shouted. Frebec, Wymez, Martag, and Tathan all dropped out of position and quickly obeyed, taking up protective places at each end of both tents.

From three sides, the attack began simultaneously. Snarling and yapping, they encroached more quickly than could be easily seen in the darkness. Low to the ground and fast on their feet, all the sudden they were everywhere.

Spears flew, shouts of warning echoed through the night. Growling and wails of pain and anger, were everywhere.

Druwez hit a wolf with a glancing blow with a spear from his spear thrower, sticking the wolf in the upper back, but not doing any real damage. The wolf veered straight for him.

Salen caught the wolf solidly in the chest with a full sized spear, dropping him in a sprawling heap. He lifted his last throwing spear up and let it fly at the wolf right behind the first.

Druwez took a deep breath and let a second spear go. He was accurate with this shot, dropping a large female to his right side. Three more came right behind her. Salen reached down and pulled a burning stick from the fire.

Talut used his spear as a lance, reaching out and stabbing one wolf after the other as they came at him and those around him.

Rymar set his feet and brandished his own spear, four wolves came at him. Fast and low.

"Help out!" He hollered, then stabbed at the first wolf in reach. Rymar's spear buried deep into the chest of the wolf just as he leaped at him, and it's closest companion jumped up on Rymar's side. Snapping at his neck, the wolf missed and fell away, but another took its place from the other side.

Rymar couldn't free his spear from the fallen animal, and let it go trying to protect his face as the wolf clamped down with a mouth full of his forearm. He screamed out in pain and threw the wolf off him and grabbed for his knife from his belt. Rymar fell sideways to the ground wrapping the wolf in his arms and stabbing at him with his knife.

Wymez and Latie arrived from opposite sides of the tent at about the same time.

Tulie followed a few steps behind.

Wymez speared a wolf in the belly as it spun around to attack again, and pulled his knife as he ran forward. He stabbed the wolf in the upper chest that had just jumped up on Rymar from the other side with one hand and pulled him away by the nape of the neck with the other.

Danug swung Talut's heavy axe in a wide arc, nearly decapitating the lead wolf in the charge. He swung it back in the opposite direction, knocking another howling to the ground with the blunt end of the large axe with a side full of shattered ribs. Danug lifted the axe back up and readied his next swing.

Latie threw her spear, taking a wolf in the side and rushed to Rymar as the wolf she hit howled in pain. Tulie stabbed the fallen wolf again as Latie pulled Rymar back up to his feet while Wymez stabbed the last wolf repeatedly.

Talut kicked a wolf in the chest, sending him howling back into the darkness. He clubbed another wolf that jumped up at him with his huge fist, sending her reeling as well.

Ranec jabbed at a pair of wolves that he held at bay in front of him. Snapping and snarling, they tried to get into flanking positions around him.

Thorec stabbed a wolf with his spear, twisting and jerking it back out and repeating the action as the wolf rolled on the ground, writhing in pain. The animal snapped violently at the open wound while his companion took a similar stab as he pressed the attack.

Salen used the burning end of the small stick to ward off a pair of aggressive young males. He burned the face of one and swung it back at the other as the wolves were held at bay, snarling and growling.

Druwez jabbed at a wolf with his knife, they were too close now to use the spear thrower, and it was the only other weapon he had at hand. A wolf snapped at his thigh, ripping his leggings and drawing blood. He grazed the neck of the wolf with the sharp flint blade as he jumped back away from the young man, Druwez cutting him deeply.

A short howl sounded out, ringing through the dark night.

The wolves began to retreat, those involved in immediate battle kept fighting on. Some died, and the rest finally backed off and scampered out into the safety of the darkness.

Bodies littered the grounds of the camp. More than a few wolves tried to drag themselves away from the fracas, wounded and weak. These were quickly dispatched by the people of the camp.

Rymar was helped to the central fire between Wymez and Tulie. He was bleeding from the arms, legs, and neck. His clothes splotched with dark red from his wounds.

Tulie had a trio of dark scratches that ran across her arm diagonally, the sleeve of her tunic shredded and dark with blood.

The night grew quiet again slowly but surely. Many of the unhurt men stayed out on the perimeter of the camp to watch for another attack, but most everyone else gathered back at the main fire.

Tressie and Brenan went to work, treating the injured.

Nezzie came out of the tent and started to put fresh heating stones in the base of the fire.

Tea was passed around, and Matera and Vincavec started mixing up medicinal potions in several wooden bowls.

Talut made a round, checking up on all the guards. He made sure none of them were injured, and that they all had weapons. His own left hand was bloody and swollen, and his tunic was ripped and dark with blood on his left forearm. Talut didn't seem to notice his own wounds.

The moon was bright, and about three quarters full, framed in a dark sea of twinkling stars. A cool breeze blew in across the camp from the southeast. Whining and soft cries from the east were heard as the surviving wolves put ground quickly between themselves and the deadly camp of humans.

Babies and young children cried from within both tents, quieted one by one as they were comforted by the women.

A cry from a single wolf from far the distant south rang out through the night, clear and melodic. It sent a shiver through almost every member of the traveling band. A second howl followed, and the night grew still.

**********

"What do we do with all the dead wolves?" Tulie asked Talut. She stood near the tent watching Frebec and Wymez dragging another body over to a small pile near the northern most fire.

"Not much we can do in the dark, just pile them up and keep a good watch for other scavengers." He answered. "I don't think we should even skin them out, it would put too much of the scent of blood in the air." The odd behavior of the wolves and the unprovoked attack bothered the big head man. He had never seen such a thing before.

"I've never seen such a large pack of wolves in my life, have you?" Tulie pressed, having trouble understanding the attack.

"No, never." Talut said, and the two if them walked back over to the main fire.

The four healers were all busy, Brenan, Tressie, and Matera worked on Rymar. His wounds were the most serious, but none looked to be life threatening. He was sore and in a lot of pain, but endured their ministrations quietly and with good humor. Rymar was no stranger to hunting injuries, having hunted and taught hunters all his life. Vincavec patched up one hunter after the other, mostly superficial scratches and a few bites. None of the wounds were too bad, but there were a lot of people that needed his attention and it took a while to work through them.

Tulie finally got her turn with Vincavec, the scratches on her arm were not too deep, but still bled lightly. Vincavec cleaned them off with a rag soaked in a strong disinfectant that also helped to slow the bleeding. She winced at the stinging solution, and glared at Vincavec who grinned at her discomfort.

"Tulie, just be tough for a little longer." He said in a condescending tone of voice.

Tulie shot him a hard look, then grinned at him despite herself. Talut watched the two of them going at it, doing his best not to laugh out loud. Tulie rarely showed pain of any kind, and it was kind of amusing to see Vincavec teasing her.

"Have you ever heard of wolves attacking people like this?" Tulie asked.

"Yes, but not often." Vincavec said, pulling a thin piece of soft leather around her arm just above her wrist. "There must be a reason for them to have acted this way. We must have encroached on their den, or maybe a fresh kill."

"It was almost dark when we stopped here, but I didn't see them around a kill." Talut chimed in, still searching his mind for an answer. "But we didn't explore the area either, we could have missed something."

"I thought we were being smart to gather dried dung as we walked, maybe it wasn't such a good idea after all." Tulie said, putting a finger on the top of the wrapped leather while Vincavec tied it off with a thin strap.

"It was a good idea, it saved a lot of time. But next time we need to scout the area better around us." Talut said with a big grin. "I don't like Mut's surprises that She sends us in the middle of the night."

Vincavec and Tulie both chuckled, thinking pretty much the same thing.

The discussion continued, yielding no real answers but generated an abundance of more questions and even a few abstract theories. Talut got his arm and hand treated, and Brenan left Rymar to Tressie and Matera. He pitched in, working side by side with Vincavec, speeding up the treatment of the others. The two women were almost finished with Rymar's bandages, and the medicinal tea they had given him began to ease his pain considerably. It also made him drowsy.

Ludeg and Danug came in to be treated for superficial wounds, getting relief from their guard posts. Brenan worked on them while Vincavec tended to Talut. Danug had a pretty deep bite on his calf, Ludeg had two bites on his wrist and hand. Neither were bad, but the risk of infection was always there and needed to be addressed.

Talut's left hand was pretty swollen up and starting to turn a few shades of blue. He had punched a wolf in the head and may have damaged some of his knuckles, or so Vincavec told him. There wasn't much he could do about it, but Vincavec made a hot salve to put on and wrapped it in a thick piece of leather to try and reduce the swelling.

The first light of dawn broke, and Vincavec and Brenan worked on the last two injured men. Rymar slept, the potion Matera had given him also induced sleep and he needed little help there. His wounds were more painful than serious, his were the worst injuries of the bunch.

Nezzie and Tessie fussed over the fire, putting together a light first meal. The central fire was crowded, no one knew what today would bring, if they would be leaving soon or staying for a while. They hovered around the fire restless and weary.

Druwez came up to Talut and Vincavec from the southeast watch, it was obvious by the way he walked that he was excited.

"I think we found the answer." He said. "Come on with me."

Talut, Vincavec, Brenan, Tulie, Danug, and Branag all got up quickly and followed the young man to the southeast side of the camp. Ludeg and Salen were there waiting for them, and led them out into the tall clumps of grass. They got no more than twenty paces when Ludeg stopped, and they all gathered around him quietly.

"Look between those tall clumps, right there." He said softly, pointing at two rather tall, very green thick clumps of grass close together in a sea of slightly shorter grass. The ground fell away slightly through the grass into a small, shallow depression, and at the center of it was a low oval shaped hole that was very dark inside. Wolf track were all around them in the light dirt and the short grass was trampled down in a few distinct trails.

"It seems that we camped right in front of their den. Right on top of them." Ludeg said, then pointed to another trail through the grass that came right past where they stood.

"Well, that makes some sense." Talut said.

"All right, so we threatened their home." Tulie said. "But how is it that there are so many of them, I've never seen such a large pack."

"I have." Ludeg said simply.

"Me too." Danug echoed.

"You have? Where?" Talut piped in, looking over at the two men.

"Sometimes, not often, but sometimes a wolf pack allows more than the single dominant female to breed. When this happens, the pack grows huge." Ludeg said.

"When a pack gets really big, they definitely get more aggressive as well." Danug added. "Many more mouths to feed."

"I've seen large packs like this before in my travels, it's not common but they do exist." Ludeg said.

"I think we threatened them by being too close, and I'll be willing to wager they have young in there." Danug went on. "They are fiercely protective of their pups. I found that out the hard way once myself."

Talut looked at Danug, grinning. He would have to talk more extensively with the son of his hearth about the many adventures he had on his long journey. The look of pride in his eyes shown bright.

"I've heard a few similar stories of overly aggressive wolves attacking people before, but I never really believed them." Vincavec said, looking over at Danug. "I guess there was truth to them after all."

Danug grinned and nodded, reminding Vincavec just how much he looked like a slightly smaller version of Talut.

"Well, one thing is for sure, we would be best off getting away from here." Tulie said, not liking the whole situation at all.

"I agree, let's go back to camp and get packed up." Talut said, and turned to leave. The rest followed.

**********

Rymar was the only one without a pack to carry when they got started. He was still a little groggy from the healing potion and sore from his wounds. His pack was loaded onto one of the sledges, and he carried his spears but nothing else.

Water was an immediate concern, and they veered a little more southerly after they were safely away from the wolf den. The low hills loomed before them, but they still seemed to be so far away.

Talut urged them on at a faster pace than they usually traveled, trying to take advantage of the cool morning. The heat of the day would slow them down soon, and he wanted to make as much progress as they could before it set in.

The grass was a little thicker now, and a few scattered bushes dotted the ground out in front of them as they made their way south. Patches of grass were grazed almost to ground level in places. Tracks and signs of grazers were everywhere in this rich land, and they came across more than a few skeletons that reminded them that wherever the grass eaters went, so went the predators.

**********

They reached the base of the first low hill in the middle of the afternoon. The sun beat down on them relentlessly, and the supply of fresh water was all but depleted. There were a few scattered, gnarly trees that grew just in just before the hills began. Sad looking trees that bore few leaves, the grazing animals saw to that, keeping them eaten down.

It was a weary group by the time they reached the hills, but Talut pressed them to continue on for a little longer. He wanted to get into the first valley before stopping for the day, they needed water bad and he hoped to find it there.

At the bottom of the first gentle valley they came across a nice stand of fir trees off to the southwest, seven trees in all fairly close together. Though not overly tall they did produce a nice shady patch that looked ideal to make camp in and get out from under the ravages of the hot sun.

Talut called a halt to the day's travel, and took all the empty water bags and enough people to help carry them out in search of water. They traversed the next hill and headed down the gentle slope diagonally toward a long line of low brush and a few trees. They found the beginnings of a creek, but the water was dirty and stale tasting. Talut led them on through the brush, looking for cleaner water.

The ground got rockier as they went on, and they finally came across a slow flowing spring from a gravel slope between several short cedars. The water pooled briefly at the base of the spring, but disappeared into the ground quickly. The grass was really green here, and they were able to fill all the water bags, but it took a while with the slow flow of water.

When Talut led them back toward camp, they followed the creek bed. There were a lot of cloven tracks from swine all through the bottoms, it was a perfect environment for them. They all kept a close eye out for the pigs, hoping to have fresh meat for supper, but they saw none of the primarily nocturnal animals.

The creek bed itself was often nothing more than mud or gravel, and an occasional trickle of water showed up every now and then. For the most part, it made for easy walking, and loaded down as they were they put a lot of ground behind them.

Talut and Danug carried three heavy water bags each, competing with each other as always. Talut carried two water bags tied together over one shoulder, and the other in his unhurt hand. The rest of them benefitted from their competition, having to carry only two bags.

**********

The evening meal was served early, consisting of a thick stew and the last of the traveling cakes. Large chunks of bison meat thickened the stew nicely, and gave it a light meaty broth that was tasty as well as filling. A few tart apples rounded out the meal.

Cool in the shade of the trees, most of the travelers napped long before darkness set in with full bellies and tired bodies. Rymar slept soon after his bandages were changed, snoring loudly on a skin in the shade of the tallest fir. Tressie lay down next to him, she felt a little protective of the oldest member of the Aurochs Camp.

They built no perimeter fires this night, but set five guards to take the first watch. The camp grew quiet as darkness set in, it had been a really long, hard day.


	12. Chapter 12 Part 1

**Chapter Twelve**

_**Fresh Provisions and a Valley of Plenty**_

**Part One**

The low hillside covered with scattered tufts of short grass was slick with mud and morning dew. More than a few people slipped, slid, and went roughly to their knees on the way up. The storm had come through two days ago, and the Clan had endured all the hardships of traveling through the still wet countryside. Swollen feeder creeks, muddy bottoms, and more than a few flooded areas in the flats. The river banks were way too muddy to walk beside, so Rug had taken them inland a little way into the slopes of the hills.

The humidity had been absolutely sweltering and even though the sun had been bright and strong since the storm, the ground in the river bottoms was still saturated and very slow to dry out. Every member of the Clan wore only a small skin tied around their waists and foot coverings, sweat streamed down their hairy bodies. The southern winds were brisk and gusting, and Mog-ur worried that more rain could be on the way, though so far the skies were still relatively clear.

Rug stood at the crest of the hill and lowered the heavy pole off his shoulder, Borg lowered the rear of the pole at the same time. He looked back to watch the rest of his Clan work their way up the short hill. Rug made a quick sign to Borg to relax here and to wait.

Brug walked beside Mog-ur who again had rear guard duty. Brug watched the Mog-ur's feet as he walked, he seemed to be the only one not slipping and sliding on the slick ground. Mog-ur angled his lead foot to be perpendicular to the hillside, digging the outside of his foot into the soft ground as he walked. Brug tried to imitate him with relative success.

Mog-ur noticed Brug looking at his feet, and watched the young man begin to ape him. I have never known a more curious lad in all my life, he thought to himself, watching the boy strive to master this way of walking. He could probably master any skill, be sufficient at anything he is taught, the boy could even possibly be a Mog-ur one day. What an intriguing thought, he mused.

Brug's first steps were a little on the clumsy side and he almost lost his balance once or twice, but he managed to get the hang of it in pretty short order. His grip increased and he felt a deep sense of satisfaction walking more easily now beside the old holy man. Brug looked up to Mog-ur almost as a father figure, at least since they had left the Aurochs Camp and Branag behind.

The Clan congregated at the top of the hill, and dropped their loads to rest. The women passed around fresh water and everyone took a drink and relaxed. They all looked down to the lush, slightly muddy valley below.

Green grass, berry covered bushes, and a lot more trees than they were used to seeing spread out before them between large patches of brown mud. A small band of dark colored horses took off from the far left of them, scampering quickly out of sight through the trees and over the rise. A lone rhinoceros grazed to the far southwest, several antelope watched them with wary eyes off to her right.

A wide, brown colored creek ran through the bottom, twisting and turning between the brush and trees. To the southwest it pooled into a wide, muddy pond with the help of a large beaver dam. An abundance of ducks and geese swam around on the outskirts of the pond, diving and eating the submerged vegetation. A huge megaceros stag lay in the cool shallows near the dam, watching the strangers at the top of the hill warily. A fat water snake swam by the stag, and dove underwater and out of sight.

Brug looked at each group of visible animals, and spotted a wily tuft eared lynx slinking through a line of dark green brush on the far side of the creek. Hunting possibilities went through his mind, at least two different potential plans formed for each target. There was no doubt in his mind he could take any of these animals, well, except maybe for the rhino.

'We should be able to get over that hill before dark.' Borg signed to Rug, who nodded in agreement.

Rug looked at his Clan, one by one. They were all in good traveling shape, and with the brief rest they were all ready to go again. He was proud of his people, they were all strong and dedicated to this difficult quest.

'Let's go.' He signed and leaned down to pick up his end of the heavy pole.

**********

Thanks to a nice wide game trail they came across a third of the way up the far incline, the Clan reached the top of the next hill considerably quicker than they normally would have.

Rug was the first to be able to see over the brush and down into the next valley. He sucked in his breath at the sight, it was huge, wide and lush, and covered with game. The center of the valley floor and well up into the next rise was carpeted with light green and tan colored, knee high grass that looked to be wheat. The floor of the valley was dotted with trees that bordered a good sized creek on both sides. A small pond formed off to their west where the creek turned back to the south, reeds and a taller variety of cane grew all along the far banks.

Game was everywhere he looked, and Rug felt his heart start to pound in his chest at all he saw. Aurochs, bison, and an abundance of different types of deer and antelope grazed throughout the wide valley, and they weren't alone. A herd of horses, a trio of moose with two gangly legged young, a small band of onager, and a lone male lion stood out in the far reaches of the heavily populated valley. An eagle and three smaller hawks circled lazily above on the currents, along with several sharp eyed vultures.

The terrain was spotted with deep patches of darker green areas, and a few drop offs of jagged rock stuck out of the far hillside. This contrasted with the light green carpet with a pleasant dark grey, complete with shadows. Wild flowers colored the valley in strips and clumps, especially on the far slope with every bright color of the rainbow. A natural spring flowed from one of the jagged outcrops, flowing down the hillside in a snaking path between the trees to the bottom of the valley before emptying into the creek. Several of these trees were heavy with young apples and one even had pears.

'Quiet, stay low.' Rug quickly signed to Borg after they dropped the pole quietly to the ground between them. He turned and passed on the message back to those who followed closely behind him.

Rug gathered his hunters around him behind the cover of the brush at the top of the hill. They all scrutinized the scene below them carefully. It was very quiet and still for a long, anxious moment. The hilltop to their right curved off to the southwest and grew steeper as it went.

'We could get to either side of those two mountain goats, and circle them.' Brug signed to Crag, with Rug squatted down beside him.

Crag and Rug both looked to where the youngest hunter of his Clan had been looking, they saw nothing. After watching for a moment, they both spied a subtle movement at the same time, and finally located the two horned goats. They were on the edge of a rocky drop off, surrounded by tall brush and scattered evergreens. After looking over the terrain closely, both of them came to the conclusion that this might be the easiest possible target to get into position for from here.

Rug gave Crag a questioning look. Crag looked back out over the valley at the other available potential targets. He studied the ground cover around the groups of animals, and the cover between them. The more he looked, the more the goats looked to be a better and more suitable target. Crag looked back to Rug and nodded, a proud twinkle in his deep brown eyes. He turned and looked directly at Brug, staring at the young man hard at first, then softening his gaze.

'How will we hunt these goats?' Crag signed to Brug.

Rug and Crag watched Brug closely, seeing how the youngest hunter would answer. It was a test of sorts, and both men were curious about the depth of his confidence and hunting acumen would be revealed.

Brug was caught off guard, the hunt leader was actually asking him to lay out a hunt for the hunters of the Clan. He took a deep breath and went over the plan he was working on in his mind one last time, it still seemed sound. Brug looked from Crag to Rug, then back again, they were serious. He saw them waiting patiently for him to answer, and he geared up his courage and dropped his gaze to the ground in front of him and grasped his amulet in his left hand. Brug felt the familiar objects inside the slightly weathered bag and took comfort from them as always and he took one more deep breath, then looked back up to face Crag and Rug.

'We need to split up into two groups first, and Troog will need to go on ahead of us down to the...'

**********

Mog-ur and Draag led the women along the crest of the hill to the southeast for a while before they went back up and over the top of the crest of the hill. The women managed to carry the poles as well as their own packs and bundles. Going was slow, but the progress was steady.

Draag pointed out a large stand of trees near a crook in the creek to the southeast, and he and Mog-ur led them toward it. They reached the trees and stopped there to make camp for the night. Even short handed, they daily chore of making camp went quickly and efficiently and everything was completed except for the lighting of the fire before too long. There was still a good bit of daylight left, the sun still well above the hill top to the west.

Etra took all the women except for Ova off on a foraging mission. Ova stayed to watch after Ooga and to tend to the men. Rug had told them not to light the fire until the sun touched the horizon, and they had plenty of time yet.

**********

The hunters saw the tendrils of smoke from the fire off to the northeast and veered toward it through the brush. Two mountain goats dangled by the hooves from spears, one between Troog and Borg, and the other between Crag and Brug. Crag held his end of the spear in the crook of his elbow to keep it almost level with Brug's shoulder. Rug led them back, and couldn't have been prouder, he had top have the most proficient hunters of all the Clans.

The hunt had played out perfectly, and the basic plan that Brug had made worked to perfection. Troog had snuck down and situated himself well past the goats and got into a blocking position, while the other two pair of hunters flanked them from each side through the cover of low lying brush.

Brug and Rug hit the larger goat at almost the exact same time from opposite sides, dropping him after only a few clumsy bounds. Borg had caught the other goat with a less than lethal shot to the back of the hip, and the goat had leapt forward just as Crag loosed his own spear and he had missed the goat completely. The wounded goat jumped to his left and ran down hill and straight to Troog who was hidden in the middle of a berry covered bush. He jumped up and caught the goat full in the chest as he charged forward in a panic, running in an awkward gate and listing badly to his right. Troog's spear rolled him, and he was dead by the time Troog got to him.

The hunters shared the liver of the larger goat, giving Brug the honor and status of the first taste. Rug announced that both kills were credited to all the hunters, and he gave Brug the added status of having planned the successful hunt. Crag was impressed with the depth of the wound from Brug's spear, it didn't quite match Rugs, but it was deep enough to kill.

Brug walked with a light step despite the swaying load on his shoulder, he couldn't have been much happier. He felt a true comradery with these men he had known all his life for the first time. They had been proud of him before, but now he felt like one of them, the lowest ranked hunter of course, but one of them all the same.

**********

The smells from the cooking food permeated the area in no time as darkness slowly blanketed the valley. A long back strap swung down over the flames suspended from the spit, crackling and popping. A mash of whole wheat and barley, sweetened with thin slices of the very tart, but not yet ripe apples hung from a tripod at the edge of the fire.

Tea was passed around by Ooga, and most of the men relaxed at the fire, content to watch the food cook and the women work. The breeze was sporadic at best here in the bottom of the valley, and the smoke from the fire hung low around them before dissipating slowly as the upper air currents pulled it up and away from the camp.

Brug and Inca scraped the goat hides, and Crag sat near them and watched, sipping tea. He still had a hard time doing anything that was normally considered by the Clan to be women's work, though Brug had no problem with it at all. For him, it was something else he wanted to know how to do, just another skill to learn and master.

Etra tended to Draag's cast, it was starting to show definite signs of wear and she didn't think it would last too much longer. She cut away the top layer of skin and wrapped it with a fresh skin around the calf and down to the top of his ankle and tied it off. The moon wasn't yet in the correct phase for her to remove the cast yet, and she wondered how much longer it would stand up to the grueling wear and tear of their daily travels. Draag seemed to tolerate the cast well enough, and he was used to walking with it but Etra was afraid to remove it prematurely. She must think on this problem, the answer must be in her memories somewhere.

Crag was still with Brug and Inca when Etra checked his arm. The wound was healing well, and she left the bandage off for the night. Crag flexed his fingers for her, and she questioned him about how much pain he had. The staunch older man just grunted, waving his hand in dismissal at any mention of pain. Etra was not surprised, but she would still add a little of that yellow powder to his tea after the evening meal. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, or his pride.

A soft gust of wind blew through, rustling the leaves and Brug and Crag both looked back to the fire. The smell of cooking meat pulled at their stomachs, reminding them anew of the depths of their hunger. Crag got up and walked back to the fire, his mouth watering.

**********

The evening meal was a delectable success. Everyone ate their fill and then some, the meat was roasted to perfection and the grain mash hot, thick, and tasty. A covered platter was set up with leftovers and was constantly being picked at, especially by the men.

Mog-ur and Rug sat across the fire watching Crag and Brug working on the new spears, bellies full and content. The hunt leader was showing Brug how to cut a groove around the butt of the shaft by turning it slowly in his hand while holding pressure against it with his knife. A thin thread of wood followed the blade of the knife as he slowly turned the shaft. It was interesting to see how the young hunter followed instructions, diligently and as exactly as he was able.

Brug set the shaft in his lap and grasped his knife, he set the blade against the butt of the shaft. He looked back at Crag, carefully studying the angle of the knife blade against the wood pole, and adjusted his knife accordingly. With a firm grip, he slowly began to rotate the shaft. His face was a mask of concentration, brow furrowed and eyes locked on his task. The veins poked out from the thick skin of his hands as he held his grip firmly. A thin strip of wood began to curl away from the edge of the sharp flint blade.

Troog and Draag set up three perimeter fires in a wide triangle around the camp, lined with rocks. They lit them and began the first watch, walking in opposite directions. The night was cool and full of the sounds of the darkness. Both men paid rapt attention to their surroundings and walked slowly and quietly.

Owls hooted and screeched and a few nighthawks added their high pitched cries to the soft sounds of the breeze rustling through the grass and swishing through the leaves of the brush and abundant trees. The cackling of hyenas in the distance was heard from several different directions, and sudden footfalls of heavy grazing animals were also heard from time to time. An occasional wolf song rang out in the night, clear and concise, the direction of its origin queerly distorted by the echoing sounds of the hill sides. The night was alive and active throughout the darkness of the huge, lush valley.

Etra went around the fire refilling the tea cups of those left at the fire. She and Inca were the last women left outside the tent. They would tend to the meat, the women would continue to cook through the night in shifts in order to finish off the rest of the two goats.

Inca worked on a long, narrow basket she wove from the wide, stiff blades of cane leaves when she wasn't tending the meat on the spit or preparing the next batch to cook. Etra worked on a flat mat made from the same materials, roughly the size of the bottom of the basket that Inca worked on. It was to be used as a second bottom eventually.

Rug got up and pulled a thick, short piece of dead fall from the fuel pile near the fire. He knelt down at the edge of the wide circle of rocks and started to stir up the coal bed. Sparks and small fingers of flame erupted as he shoved the coals back to the center of the pit. A stand of burning wood collapsed down in a shower of sparks, and heavy thread of thick smoke rose up as the fire diminished momentarily before starting to grow back in force. Rug added fresh fuel, stacking the thicker pieces into a pyramid shape above the low flames. He tossed smaller pieces into the center of the flames, and they caught quickly and Rug backed off from the fresh heat wave of the fire as they flared in bright yellow, dancing flames.

Mog-ur watched the flames grow bright and was mesmerized by their intense beauty. He felt himself being pulled into them, a calming sense of satisfaction and serenity enveloped him. Mog-ur could often, in moments of quiet peace, see into his own memories through the flames of a fire.

He saw the bright red, quivering coal bed slowly evolve into a craggy seashore. Through the bright oranges, reds and blues of the base of the flames, Mog-ur saw men of the Clan together in pairs wading in the shallows of the sea with nets of a thick fibrous material. Two men to a net, they cast them into the water and let them settle and sink for a moment before pulling them back between them. Sometimes the nets were empty, other times there were fish entangled by their fins. Silver fish, dark grey fish, and even green fish with long mouths filled with sharp rows of small, sharp teeth...

**********

Just before dawn, the incredibly loud roar of a lion shook the entire valley. Where the sudden, ominous sound originated from was a bit of a mystery.

Borg and Rug were walking the perimeter on second watch, and both men jumped involuntarily at the sound and were instantly covered with goose flesh. Their eyes searched the darkness, to no avail.

Ova and Aba were tending the meat at the central fire. Aba jumped up with wide eyes and panic etched across her face and covered her chest with her arms, Ova dropped to the ground and covered her head with her arms, moaning in fear.

The men met up at the southern most fire and tried to ascertain between them the direction of the lion. South was the best they could do, and even that was unsure at best. The one thing they could agree on was that the lion was not too close.

The tent emptied, no one would get any more sleep this night. There were still several large pieces of goat meat left to cook, and a large basket of tea was put together and heated. Brug went out and talked with the guards, pestering them for all they knew of the lion. Mog-ur made a round, speaking calmly to each person, trying to reassure them that they were in no imminent danger. His very presence had a soothing effect on the jumpy, jittery camp.

Gradually, the camp activities began again at a relaxed pace. Most of the men hung out at the edges of the light from the outer fires, keeping the flames stoked and watching the darkness. The women stayed close to the central fire, helping with the cooking and putting together a first meal.

Etra and Inca continued to work on the long, narrow basket between tending to the cooking meat. Each woman now worked on weaving wide, heavy handles they planned to attach to its ends. The basket was shaping up nicely, thick and strong.

Brug sat at the fire cutting a notch in the third new styled spear, the other two spears were ready for the next step. Crag came out of the darkness from the north, and sat down next to him. He watched Brug's technique, please at the progress he showed from the night before when he was a little more clumsy and less proficient in his efforts. Brug looked up at Crag when he sat down, and paused for a moment before he continued, pleased that Crag had no words of criticism for him.

**********

The sunrise was magnificent, a broad array of color reflected off the eastern horizon and three bands of thin, transparent clouds to the southeast. Brilliant hues of pinks and reds welcomed in the new day in all of Ursus' marvelous grandeur. It seemed to be the perfect end to a troubling, long night. The new light of day helped to settled the ragged nerves of the entire Clan.

A large piece of meat was tied to the cross bar of the spit, and set over the flames. There were three large pieces left to cook. The morning was half gone, and the tent was already broken down and packed up. Loaded back packs and bundles littered the far edge of the camp.

Etra put the finishing touches on the outside lip of the lid to the basket while Inca used a thin, flexible stem to weave between the bottom and the extra piece Etra had made as a second bottom. Ova and Aba stacked the pieces of cooked meat wrapped in light skins near them on a patch of green grass.

Rug and Troog scouted to the southeast, around a wide band of brush that lined both sides of the creek. Both men had their spears up and ready as they explored, the presence of at least one lion in the valley was enough to hold their rapt, undivided attention. They waded across the wide, shallow creek that never got more than knee deep. The water was still mostly brown and muddy, and the banks were sloppy with thick mud also. Rug lost one of his foot coverings on the far side as they waded out of the water and up onto the dark brown muddy bank. He retrieved the foot cover, and carried it until they got to a small patch of grass past the mud.

Troog carefully observed all the different animal tracks around them as Rug retied his foot cover, it was amazing. He saw tracks he wasn't sure he even recognized, there were so many. Big animals, small animals, grazers, predators, scavengers, they were all there. He worried when he realized that most of them were relatively fresh. This is indeed a valley teeming with life, he thought, it wouldn't be a bad place to live.

Three weasels darted away from a wide bush, scampering around the two men and heading back toward the creek behind them. They were so incredibly quick on their feet, Rug thought, watching them disappear into the bushes near the creek bed. The men veered a little southwesterly, skirting a stand of short cedar.

Crag tied the light woven cord around the butt of the last spear. Wrapping it three times around the shaft, inside the groove, he tied it off with a knot that he tightened by pulling the shaft away from his face with the end of the cord between his teeth.

Brug lifted one of the other two spears in his hands, feeling its weight and balance. The cord attached to the rear threw him off, it made the spear feel very back heavy and so cumbersome and awkward. The coil of cord lay on the ground at his side, it looked so long to him. He turned back to watch Crag trim the loose end of the cord off close to the shaft with his knife.

Crag finished up and studied the end of the spear for a moment before looking over at Brug who sat wide eyed and anxious. He thought to himself for a moment, wondering if they should practice, or just go hunting. There was still plenty of time before the last of the meat would be fully cooked and ready to pack. The bone points were quite sturdy, but they would still be fairly easy to break or damage if struck against something hard.

'Let's find a place to practice.' Crag signed as he stood up, holding the spear in one hand and the coil of cord in the other.

The disappointment in Brug's face was instantly obvious, but he covered it quickly enough to satisfy Crag. They walked away from camp to the north, picking their way through the brush until the found a small clear field of grass bordered by scattered small bushes with orange berries dangling down in clumps. Crag liked the looks of this area, there was a single bush off by itself with nothing behind it, it seemed to be a suitable target. He led them to a proper distance away from it, and stopped.

'Use that bush as your target, force is not an issue yet, learn control first.' He signed and set the spear and coil of cord to the ground beside him.

Brug set the extra spear down, and squared up to the bush. It was fairly close, by no means extending his normal range. He lifted the spear up, and gave Crag a questioning look as he held out the coil of lightweight cord.

Crag was at a sudden loss, and closed his eyes to remember back to what all Rymar had told them about throwing a spear with cord tied to it. It was all vague, but Crag eventually remembered quite a few details from all of the discussions. He reached out and took Brug's throwing arm in his hands. He tied the loose end of the cord to the young hunter's right wrist, then set the coil of cord over his forearm almost to the elbow.

Brug looked down at the odd configuration, a little confusion in his deep brown eyes. He looked up to the hunt leader, and saw that he had it the way Crag wanted. Brug shrugged, then pulled his arm back and sighted on the target.

The throw felt funny from the very beginning. The cord dangling from his forearm seemed strangely out of place, the cord tied to his wrist felt like something was holding him back, and the spear was so light that it felt totally unnatural. The spear sailed up, much higher than Brug meant it to, then his arm was suddenly jerked forward. The cord had gotten bound up and had not unwound freely for very far. The spear jerked in the air, and fell clumsily to the ground.

Brug looked back to Crag, bewilderment in his face. He almost looked embarrassed, almost. Crag simply studied what he had seen, then pulled the rest of the cordage free from his arm. He looked at Brug and made a sign for him to fetch the spear and Brug nodded, then turned and walked out to get it.

Crag closed his eyes again, picturing every aspect of the throw in his mind. He slowed the image down as much as he could and came to a possible conclusion from what he had seen. When he opened his eyes, Brug was standing in front of him, waiting. Crag took the cord and dropped it to the ground. When he began to coil it back up, he made much longer loops this time and instead of putting it over Brug's throwing arm, he placed it in his left hand.

'Hold hand open, do not clinch down on the cord.' He signed, and Brug nodded, understanding.

Brug sighted on the bush again, and let fly. The throw was straight, but way too high. The cordage uncoiled from his hand nicely, but the weight and drag of it caused the spear to fly in an odd angle with the bone pointing skyward. The spear flew well past the bush, and then jerked hard against his wrist as the cordage ran out.

Crag was very pleased with the throw, even though it was off target and flew at a funny angle. Brug wasn't happy at all. The throw had missed his intended target, and missed badly. He scowled, showing more anger and frustration than he had shown in a long, long time. Brug had not missed anything so badly in a long, long time. This didn't get by Crag, and he knew that the boy couldn't see the impressive measure of success that he had just shown.

Reaching for Brug's wrist, he untied the cord and dropped it to the ground, signing with one hand as it fell. 'Try again.'

Brug picked up the spear nearest to him, and pulled the free end of the cord up and handed it to Crag. It took them a little bit to get the next attempt prepared, and Brug took several deep breaths to try and compose himself. When they were ready, Crag stepped to the side and signed again.

'This spear is lighter than you are used to, use less strength and more direction.'

Brug nodded, but the words seemed almost hollow. He had to concentrate to even understand what Crag really meant. Brug's mind was already set on the adjustments he needed to make, and Crag's instructions were different from what he intended to do and this confused him. He took a deep breath, deciding to heed Crag's instructions and pulled the spear up to try again.

The third attempt reminded Brug quickly to not grip the loose cordage in his left hand, the spear flew only a few steps before he inadvertently tightened his grip and stopped the trajectory of the spear. It did accomplish one thing good though, it lightened the mood of both men who had been so very serious. They both found the miscue amusing after realizing what Brug had done a moment or two later.

On Brug's fifth attempt, he hit the bush. It was very hard for him to get the feel of this new weapon, it was just so light compared to his other spears. His previous attempts had all gone high, lowering a little bit with each cast of a spear. Brug situated himself, and matched the previous cast with another accurate throw, this one a little harder. He looked up at Crag, and the sides of his mouth split into a very slight grin. Crag was more amused than annoyed at this reminder of his friends of the Others.

They gathered the spears together, and Crag started back toward the camp. Brug looked up at him, obviously wanting to continue to practice this new and difficult weapon.

'I need to add something to the spears.' He signed, and kept walking.

Brug followed along, wondering what he had in mind. Despite the difficulties he had endured, Brug had high hopes for this new weapon. His mind roamed and suddenly he wished Bran-nah was here with him, and Rym-mar and Mor-tah as well.

**********

'The women want to gather more food, we should stay here another night.' Rug signed, he often liked to get the Mog-ur's opinion before making any final decision on the Clan's next move. His respect for the spiritual leader and his views was immense, and it would be unseemly to bounce his ideas off any other member of his Clan.

Mog-ur looked at the Clan leader, and nodded his head. There was a vast abundance of fresh vegetables to be found here, and the taste of fresh greens and other vegetables did entice the older man. He made a simple one handed sign that meant simply, 'good'.

'I will send hunters to escort them then, we will leave at first light in the morning.' Rug signed and turned back toward a group of men standing off to the far edge of the camp.

Mog-ur watched him go, thinking to himself how well Rug had done thus far since he had been given the mantle of leadership. Rug adapted adequately, having not been trained to do this job from an existing leader as was tradition, he excelled at this job of such great importance to the Clan. The Clan followed him without question as they would any designated leader, and Rug had made no real tangible errors thus far. Rug tended to treat them all with slightly more respect than their original leader had, but Mog-ur knew that this was no ordinary Clan any longer. Some of the old ways were skewed, completely different now, and more things were changing still.

On those rare mornings that the Clan did not have to break camp immediately to leave, most of them wore only a simple, small skin wrapped around their waists while staying near the camp. The morning coolness was much more enjoyable with the scant clothing, most days got so hot now that the cool mornings and early evenings were the times that they all looked forward to and appreciated greatly.

Etra and Ova turned the spit and stoked up the fire again when they got the meat anchored at a new angle. Fresh drippings from the slab of meat dropped into the fire, sizzling and sending out another wave of succulent, delectable smells.

Mog-ur looked at Etra's slightly swelling belly as she reached up to tie off the spit. He considered again the incredible fact that every single woman of his Clan was pregnant, and wondered how it would affect them in their travels. They still had so far to go, and all of it unknown, at least in the physical sense. The memories Mog-ur counted on to keep them on track did not give them the details necessary to actually plan their route, only the general direction they needed to go was clear.

Inca and Aba watched and waited patiently, watching Rug walk over to the hunters. The men spoke amongst themselves for a while, paying the women no attention at all. Etra carried a digging stick and a small gathering basket as she approached the two women. Their own baskets and sticks lay at their feet. The men broke up their discussion, splitting into two groups.

Troog and Draag went with the three women, Ova staying behind to cook and watch after little Ooga. They walked to the east, toward a rocky outcrop at the base of the low hillside on the far side of the creek.

Borg and Rug walked away to the south, exploring in the direction they would be traveling the following morning. They had no real mission in mind, but the beautiful valley teemed with life and beckoned them to wander around and enjoy its beauty.

Mog-ur dipped a cup of tepid tea from a basket and sat down to watch Crag and Brug. The hunt leader was explaining something to his newest hunter, Mog-ur watched the lesson that was already in progress. Ooga walked over and climbed into his lap, tugging on the ends of his greying beard softly in her usual show of affection and greeting. Mog-ur put his arm around her and cuddled her into his lap comfortably. Ooga lay her head on his bare chest right at the level of his darkly tattooed scar and wrapped her arm over his belly. She tickled the hair on his belly with a slowly twirling finger absently, enjoying the closeness as she always did.

'...and to offset the lighter weight and shorter length of this new weapon, we can modify the shaft of the spear like this.' Crag signed, and pulled a thin strip of leather from a bulging pouch on his wide belt. He dipped the leather into a small bowl of water between them and let it soak for a moment, then wrung it out. Crag grasped the center of the spear shaft, and held it out for Brug to hold for him. Brug held the shaft strongly between his hands while Crag began to wrap the leather strip around the shaft at about the center of the spear. He overlapping the strip twice over itself before working his way slowly and meticulously toward the rear of the shaft.

'This will make the spear feel thicker to your hand, and should make it easier to throw and control.' Crag signed with one hand, pinching the end of the strip tightly against the shaft as he signed.

Brug watched with wide eyes, he saw how Crag kept the strip close together, but a small measured distance apart as he wrapped it around the shaft. The concept Crag spoke of was difficult for him to grasp, and the young hunter strained to understand how this could possibly help to make the odd feeling spear feel more like what he was used to. He decided to just watch, and maybe the purpose would become clearer as Crag worked.

When Crag got a certain distance back, he double wrapped the strip over itself again and started working back forward to where he had originally started. The leather strip created a series of diamond shapes as it overlapped the first wraps in an interesting pattern. Brug got lost in his mind as he watched, the shapes this created reminded him of something, but while he concentrated on what Crag was doing, he couldn't quite remember what it was.

When Crag reached the place where he had started, he folded the strip back under a previous wrap and pulled it tight. He pulled out his bone handled flint knife and carefully trimmed the excess off. Crag pulled the spear up to him and looked over his handy work, then pushed it back to Brug who looked it over anxiously.

'When the leather dries, it will be stiff and tighten up even more against the shaft of the spear.' Crag signed as Brug looked up at him, his eyes were glowing with respect, and more than a few questions. Crag was pleased that the boy showed enough patience to not start asking them yet.

Brug was a good student, Crag and Rymar of the Aurochs Camp had both been overly impressed with his want, and need to learn. Because of his constant, never wavering enthusiasm, he was easy to teach. He practiced diligently on every task he was taught, until he was proficient with no prodding needed. Brug's curiosity though, made for intricate and long detailed discussions to answer his numerous and constant queries. He wanted to know everything, absolutely everything. It was good that both his teachers, past and present, were blessed with an abundance of patience and knowledge.

Mog-ur saw the mounting curiosity and enthusiasm in the young hunter. He was pleased to see Brug studying the modified spear while Crag pulled another strip of leather from his pouch. The two hunters went back to work on the next spear, Brug knew what was expected of him this time around and held the spear in position while Crag wrung the excess water from the leather strip.

Draag slowed when the women found a wide, but thin patch of ripe cabbage, and looked to the east, studying the land carefully. Troog walked up beside him, and pointed his spear tip at three dark colored horses grazing in the tall grass in the distance. One of the horses was a little smaller in stature than the other two, probably a yearling, Draag thought as he watched them.

Etra used her digging stick to break up the ground where some thick, green leaves grew in clumps at the near edge of the cabbage patch. She reached down and started pulling up fat, yellow onions from the loose ground all caked with dirt, and put them in her basket. Several fat grubs with bright orange heads wriggled in the loose dirt, and she tossed them in as well.

Draag stopped and knelt down, picking up a thin willow twig that still had a few dead, brown leaves clinging to it. He stripped the leaves by running it through his fingers, then carefully poked the thin end of the twig down the top of his cast. His leg itched something fierce, and he used the twig to scratch a few spots under the top of the cast that he could reach. The instant relief he felt caused some of the wrinkles to disappear from his forehead.

The band of gatherers moved on, Inca spotted another stand of ripe wheat and veered them toward it. Aba stopped to poke her stick into the ground, prodding around a few wide green leafed vines before moving on. A fat grey lizard scampered through the short grass in front of them, disappearing into a clump of twigs at the base of a short bush.

Rug and Borg rounded a stand of short cedars and willows on the far edge of the creek. A fat water snake slithered out from under the partially exposed roots at the far tree to their right and quickly plunged into the muddy water with a small splash. The snake disappearing into the murky water with little more than a ripple on the surface.

Three colorful ducks took flight from further upstream at a small bend, their wings beating noisily in the stillness of the late morning. A turtle head slid up and out of the water a few steps out to the right of them, then slid back down and out of sight. A squirrel chattered at the two men angrily from the safety of the dark branches of a cedar tree off to their left.

The creek widened here, but the banks were sloppy with dark mud and animal tracks. Borg and Rug both paused and studied the tracks, identifying them in their minds. Mostly they saw tracks that represented food animals, but the predators had been there too. As had the scavengers.

Mog-ur watched Crag tie off the leather strip of the second spear, Crag took the spear from Brug. He looked it over then set it down next to the first, completed spear. Mog-ur was somewhat surprised when Crag took the last spear from Brug, and held it out in front of him just as Brug had held the previous two spears for him.

Crag nodded down to the bowl of water, and Brug's eyes widened as he realized that Crag wanted him to wrap the last spear himself. Brug pulled the wet strip of leather out of the bowl, and squeezed it through his strong fingers, the excess water running down his hands and wrists.

Brug surprised both men when he reached up to grasp his amulet and closed his eyes for a long moment before looking back at the spear shaft. He reached up and put his finger on the shaft and looked to Crag, Crag nodded and Brug began. He was meticulous and slow, stopping several times to undo what he had just done to do it over again, neater and more precise.

Crag watched without comment, allowing Brug to work at his own pace. The boy struggled a bit at first, getting the wraps uneven and varying in tightness around the shaft. He seemed to know what was acceptable, and redid it until he was satisfied. Brug even stopped at one point and looked back down to one of the completed spears as a reference before going on.

When he had wrapped the strip what he thought was the correct distance down the shaft, he stopped and looked up at Crag for approval before continuing. Crag nodded at Brug, and tilted his head back toward the front of the spear. Brug doubled the wrap where it was, then started back forward. The young hunter was awed again by the diamond shapes he was now creating, and he wondered again what these shaped kept reminding him of.

Mog-ur watched the lesson, Brug was doing well, he thought. His opinion of Crag escalated even higher than normal as he saw just how patient a good teacher had to be. Several times, Mog-ur was sure that Crag would stop the boy and correct him, but the hunt leader always allowed him to see his own mistakes. Brug did not fail to achieve the desired results, catching himself every time the quality lagged and repairing it.

Brug had trouble at the end of the wrap, where he needed to fold the strip under itself to tie it off. He attempted it several times, always losing the tightness of the wrap in the process. Finally, he looked up at Crag for instruction.

Crag nodded to Brug to try again, his face showing no disappointment, and possibly a little respect for his efforts. Brug took a deep breath and pulled the strip tight, and pinched it off a little way from where he started to slip it under the first wraps. This time he succeeded in getting it in place with the leather still fairly taught, but not taught enough for his liking. Brug felt a bit of satisfaction as he undid it and tried again.

Mog-ur saw the determined look on Brug's face, and thought to himself that the boy would succeed on his next try. He was correct.

Brug pulled his knife and placed it against the stray end of the leather strip, then looked up at Crag before going on. Crag nodded and Brug slit the leather carefully, the spear was done.

Crag and Brug got help from an unexpected source when the two men moved closer to the fire to continue the phase of the task. Mog-ur followed them and held the third spear as the three of them turned the shafts slowly in the outside heat from the flames, drying the leather. Mog-ur enjoyed helping, he had never been too astute in the making of weapons, his training had always been centered elsewhere. The comradery he felt at this moment was very enjoyable, in fact he found he liked it a lot.

Brug kept looking up at the Mog-ur, he liked the old man helping them. It made him feel somehow a little more important that the holy man was interested enough in what they were doing to actually help.

Mog-ur turned the shaft slowly, concentrating on what he was doing. It wouldn't do for me to mess up all their hard work, he thought.

"Brug", do you think that "Crag" is a good enough teacher to teach an old man like me to throw a spear?'

Brug was as startled by the question as Crag was, but he looked up and nodded enthusiastically at the Mog-ur. "Crag" is good teacher. The best. He can teach you, he can teach anyone.' He signed rapidly, not really realizing that his words could have been construed as an insult to the Mog-ur.

Mog-ur was quietly amused at the unintended slight, but let nothing show on his impassive face knowing that Brug in his innocence had meant no insult. He saw the boy as he really was, too young to be a man, but a man and a hunter of this Clan never the less.

Crag was slightly amused at the conversation, but more than a little touched. The confidence that Mog-ur had always shown in him was reassuring, and he was also pleased that Brug seemed to think that there was nothing he couldn't do. He knew, though, that teaching hunting skills to an adult that had never really hunted much would probably be more difficult than teaching an impressionable youth was.

"Crag" will teach. "Mog-ur" will throw the spear as all the hunters do. Accurate and strong.' Crag signed with a little more confidence on his rugged face than he really felt.

Brug swelled with pride at his teachers words. He looked up at Mog-ur with the unwavering confidence of youth, sure that Mog-ur would be a great hunter with the new weapon. Just as proficient as the rest of them, Crag could teach anyone, of this he was positive.

By late afternoon, the last piece of meat came off the spit. The women were back from their foraging with bulging baskets of fresh goods. They started preparing the evening meal early, they had a lot of work to do to get the fresh vegetables and grain ready to pack away while they worked over the meal.

The men were all in a fine mood, they examined the new spears that were in the final stages of readiness. As usual, the conversations centered on hunting and weapons. They asked a lot of questions about the new spears, and Crag and Brug both gave answers. Long, detailed answers.

Mog-ur paid more attention to the conversation that he usually did, his interest in the ways the Clan now used to hunt was increasing. He felt a longing to belong to the hunters in a way that he had not felt in years, he wondered why.

Aba brought the men a fresh skin of cool water, and Ooga carried an arm full of cups. The young girl passed them out to the men while Aba poured, she got into Mog-ur's lap and made herself at home.

Mog-ur felt a sudden, unexpected stab of arousal when Aba bent over to pour Rug's cup full of water. Her bare bottom peeked out at him from under the short, loose wrap around her waist. He looked away from the welcoming pink folds of her womanhood, thinking that maybe later I should relieve myself with her.

Ooga tugged on Mog-ur's beard, and he pulled her close with his arm. The child nestled her head against his chest, and sighed contentedly. Mog-ur could never remember being as completely content as he was right now. Despite the hardships of the past, and the difficulty promised by their future, this Clan, this life was good. Really good.

Brug picked up the closest spear to him on the ground, and studied the now familiar designs the strips of leather made. It came to him all at once, the diamond pattern was the same pattern that Bran-nuh had tattooed on his upper cheek. The remembrance of this warmed him inside, though the memory was a bit sad as well. Brug knew now that he must learn to use these new spears, and use them well. It would be his way of honoring the large man of the Others that he loved and missed so much, and had been forced to leave behind.


	13. Chapter 12 Part 2

**Chapter Twelve**

_Fresh Provisions and a Valley of Plenty_

**Part Two**

Talut stood looking down on the circle of seated men, he felt a little worthless because his hand was still swollen, sore, and rather useless for shaping stone. The crisp chipping sounds of stone hitting stone conjured up memories of the strange, asymmetrical rhythms of the music of the Clan for some reason. These rhythms changed constantly, and he closed his eyes to simply listen for a moment when a stray sliver of flint hit him in the middle of his bare right shin. When he opened his eyes, his big, strapping son was grinning up at him. Though Talut was an adequate flint worker, he knew that even if he were able to help, he would be the least skilled among this talented group anyway.

Danug went back to chipping the blackened chalky layer off the outsides of the stone, grinning broadly. Brenan sat next to him chipping away and grinned up at Talut who leaned down to scratch his hairy leg.

Wymez and Druwez exchanged stones, Druwez had just finished stripping the outer layer and handed it over. Wymez gave him five wide, leaf shaped pieces in return. Druwez dropped them onto a piece of leather on the ground beside him, adding to a growing pile already there. He picked one of them up and admired it briefly before putting it back down and getting back to work. His mentor never ceased to amaze him.

Branag and Gralon had a similar pile going between them, and Ludeg had three more blackened stones in front of the one he was working on. Martag had a wide flat stone in his lap, and used a bone punch to flatten put the final touches to blunt the end of a point into a nice, gentle arc. He had several completed to his right side, and a large hand full yet to do on his left.

The second valley had given them more than just a supply of fresh water. Wymez had located a small cache of flint just past the base of the second small spring they had found at a rocky mound. The nodules were mostly buried in the ground with only the tops visible through the thick, green grass. With a lot of help, he had seen that some twenty or so nodules had made their way back to the main camp fire and added to the coals incrementally.

The travelers were desperately short of weapons, and Wymez had insisted that they stop and resupply their stocks when he saw the quality of the newly found flint. He got no arguments, but he did get a lot of volunteers intent on helping out.

An assembly line of sorts was formed within the circle of flint knappers, and it made the older man proud to watch all these skilled men at work. Especially Danug and Druwez, he had taught them personally and Danug was among the most skilled of the group.

Mortan and Frebec went hunting. They were on the lookout for birds, any large birds would do. They hunted up the far ridge where it was rocky and the ground was mostly bare but for some short grass and a few bushes.

The terrain was ideal for grouse, quail, ptarmigan, and a few other species of fat, fast flying ground birds. Any of these would yield enough of the wide, stiff feathers needed to apply to the rear of the spears, though it would take several of the birds to meet all their needs. Frebec found out quickly that the birds were very wary in the sparse ground cover, and they tended to fly away well before they came within decent spear thrower range. They were also very hard to see, their coloring blended them into their surroundings extraordinarily well.

Mortan killed a fat grouse he spotted beside a grey rock with a well thrown spear, and three more of them took flight about the same time his spear took the fat bird. Frebec watched where they went, they lit between a pair of straggly bushes just a little way down the slope to the south. An idea formed suddenly in Frebec's mind.

The two men split up and followed the birds down the slope, keeping a sharp eye on where they had landed. They approached cautiously, and held their spears ready when they got in range. Spotting the birds when you knew where they were proved to be rather easy, and two more of them quickly fell to the small spears of the spear throwers.

Ranec led a group of men and women on a search for spear shafts, both large and small. They scoured the valley bottom, harvesting only the best limbs from various species of trees as they went. Most of the trees were rather small and stunted here still, so they were not able to get too many from each, more than a few trees yielded no potential shafts at all.

Salen and Silvie carried the first batch back to camp, both toting large bundles of rough cut shafts. Salen made pleasant small talk, flirting lightly with the shapely young woman all the way back to camp. She wasn't immune to his subtle advances, but played coy very well and was a little shy by nature anyway. Salen wiped a bit of sweat off his brow with the back of his hand, it was mid afternoon and hot.

A wide, elongated fire pit was being shaped and lined with rocks off to the southern edge of the camp. Tulie and Marsie gathered stones and dropped them off near the lengthening pit, while Deegie and Latie scraped the dirt into a shallow trough. Rymar and Vincavec placed the stones along the outer edges.

Nezzie decided that a stew was in order, knowing that they would have to stay here at least one more day. She sent three women out to gather any kind of fresh greens or vegetables they could find, and decided that the last large rhinoceros roast would make a great main ingredient. Nezzie worked over a flat rock with a basket beside her that was filling up fast with the small square cuts of richly marbled meat. Cooked meat was a little harder to cut up into small pieces for the stew, but Druwez had made her a new knife a few days ago that was really sharp and was working exceptionally well.

Matera and Mamie watched over the babies and smaller children. Matera had been feeling very maternal of late, and she found herself wanting to be close to the babies more and more. Little Bralut was particularly intriguing, and he and Brydag were both in constant motion when they were awake. Both boys required constant supervision, she learned quickly that if you took your eyes off either one of them for an instant, they would be gone. She would never have thought that crawling could be such an efficient mode of travel.

Mamie had helped her mother to raise her youngest sibling, Mortan, and was well aware of how mobile they could be. She got a kick out of watching Matera try to keep track of the two of them. The soft side of Matera came out when she was with the children, and Mamie could see that the older woman was both intrigued and maybe a little intimidated by them. Mamie had some of these same feelings, though she was only fifteen.

**********

The evening meal was done enough to eat a little before dark, and was a welcome diversion from the many ongoing tasks. With such a large group of people, every meal was a major production that required a lot of cooperation to pull off efficiently. Nezzie and Marsie made it look easy, though, and their abundant experience in feeding large groups of people showed. Those they recruited to help on a daily basis knew by now what all had to be done, and little actual supervision was necessary.

The long fire pit had burned down to a mound of glowing embers, and Ranec and Thorec put the finishing touches on the two long poles that ran the length of the pit on each side. Several tripods held the poles just over knee high on the outsides of the pit. The two men started laying the spear shafts between them, suspended above the shimmering heat of the coal bed to dry out.

This phase of the shaft preparation would require constant monitoring. The shafts would want to bow and twist with the constant heat of the coals needed to drive the moisture from them. Though they had to be dried out, it was an art to know how long to leave them over the heat. If left too long, the shafts could become too brittle and break easily. If taken off too soon, they would be more apt to warp and/or split.

Ranec knew the properties of wood better than anyone else, and Thorec was a rather accomplished wood bender himself. Between the two of them, they should be able to get the most from the shafts they had to work with. Both men had shaft straighteners fashioned from the antlers of megaceros, and both men used them as the first batch of shafts came off the stand.

Barzec and Tricie carved notches in the shafts with their knives, preparing them for the points to come later. Tornec and Manuv cut them to length, using sandstone to smooth the ends. Vincavec and Jozen smoothed the dried shafts with sandstone and their knives to whittle away small imperfections.

The work went on well into the night, and since so many people were out and active, they posted no guards. With the main camp fire, two bright perimeter fires, and the long glowing trough all casting various degrees of light, it didn't seem necessary to do much more.

The hustle and bustle eventually slowed as more and more people retired to the tents for the evening, but the progress continued with those who stayed with it. Several of the craftsmen stopped and napped out under the open sky, then went back to work following brief rests.

The hanging bag of stew and both tea baskets got a constant workout throughout the long, cool night as well. There were always at least two people eating near the fire, no matter what else was going on around them.

Talut scraped three raw shafts bare of bark, then went back and ate another small bowl full of stew. Then he scraped three more shafts. He got comfortable with this routine, and grinned every time he set three finished shafts in the growing pile beside him.

**********

The new day greeted them with a dazzling sunrise, and there were many awake and already up and around to enjoy it. The cool night air was accented with a soft breeze that diminished slowly as the sun came up.

Nezzie sliced the meat of seven birds into narrow strips, there were four grouse, a quail, and two ptarmigan. She strung them out, pierced on a thin stick and hung them over the fire to brown before adding them to the stew. Talut snatched one before they were completely cooked, getting a sharp whack on the butt with a long wooden spoon as he made his escape from Nezzie.

There were now two growing piles of finished spears, large and small ones for the spear throwers. There were a lot more of the smaller spears than the longer, heavier ones.

Branag sat by himself putting the finishing touches on an axe head. He carefully cut two grooves down the sides of it to help hold it to a handle he had not yet made. The flint was deep blue with a vein of lighter blue running down the length of it. Such a beautiful stone, he thought as he knocked a fat chip away with a controlled rap of his hammer stone against the bone punch.

Wymez examined the finished spears one at a time, scrutinizing them closely from one end to the other and pulled one out for additional work and setting it aside every now and then. Rymar and Barzec worked on the spears that Wymez kicked out. Retouching points, sanding rough spots on the shafts, and sometimes replacing scrunched feathers.

Ranec and Thorec straightened some of the less than perfect shafts, finished or still in process. Wetting them and holding them over the fire while in the grasp of the bending tools. It took several tries on some of the long throwing spears, and a few had to be stripped of their flint points and feathered ends before they were discarded. For the most part, though, most were repairable.

The stew continued to get worked over, it tasted even better this morning with the flavors blending together better from having simmered all through the night. A fact that didn't escape Talut or Danug who both sat at the fire eating. Brydag was in Talut's wide lap, and got a small bite of mostly broth between the two men. His chubby little hands were everywhere, pulling on Talut's beard, his chest hair, and even the bowl of stew.

Danug chewed a small bite of meat until it was soft, and took it from his mouth and reached over to put it into Brydag's fat little fingers. He pulled it up to his mouth, and when he bit into it he made a face so funny that both men laughed until they were red in the face.

Tressie set up a small area off at the north perimeter fire and began changing bandages and tending wounds. She had at least two people waiting their turns all the time, there were a lot of small wounds that needed tending from the wolf attack. A few of them needed extra work as small infections set in, it was difficult to prevent it being constantly on the move as they were.

Rymar's wounds were the worst of the bunch, but healing the cleanest. There was none of the red, inflamed skin around his wounds and though still painful and tender to the touch. Tressie washed the wounds with the yellow mixture and wrapped them with fresh skins. He thanked her and returned to his chores.

When Talut came over, she wrapped his swollen hand in a different mix of herbs than she had tried the day before. The swelling was down a bit, but the hand was still purple and tender. Talut showed none of his discomfort, though, he was much too tough for that.

Though busy, the entire camp got a well needed rest from the rather hectic travels and adventures of the past few days. The tasks they now worked on were more tedious than physically demanding. Many of them had little to do and napped or lounged in the shade at frequent intervals.

Nezzie and Tulie led a group of foragers, but had little luck in the mostly sparse valley. They did find a few onions, radishes, and a little cabbage. Their efforts barely filled two gathering baskets though, and with this large group of people it wouldn't last long at all.

On their way back to camp, Tulie spied a small patch of nearly ripe strawberries. Meager and overly tart, they gathered all they could find which wasn't very many at all. It was close to midday by the time they returned, and Nezzie checked the diminishing supply of stew. They would need to get something else underway before the evening meal.

Frebec and Mortan decided to go out hunting again, and started out toward the rise where they had gotten the birds yesterday. Frebec wanted to see what lay on the other side of the hilltop, Mortan couldn't have agreed more.

They took two quail on their way up to the rocky ridge, and chased the singles and pairs from the covey into the thin, short grass. They got three more, Mortan missing twice and breaking a spear point on a rock. He was getting a little discouraged.

"Mortan, you must remember what a small target a quail makes." Frebec said, putting a hand on the boys shoulder and giving him a squeeze. He took the spear with the broken point from him and looked it over.

"I do believe that Wymez can retouch this, it is not a total loss. Come on."

Mortan looked up at the older man with his thinning hair and bright smile, he couldn't help but to grin back at him. Frebec was funny, and he always seemed to make time for him when he wanted to go hunting. Mortan wasn't too sure why he liked to hunt with Frebec so much, but it might be that Frebec always took him seriously and he had a habit of putting him in the best position to be successful. He walked beside Frebec who kept his hand on the boy's shoulder as they traversed the rise.

Mortan killed a blue grouse at the base of a wide rock jutting out of the dark ground. He broke the spear point when it went through the bird and chipped against the hard rock. This time it didn't hurt so much, at least he had a bird to show for it.

When they reached the summit, they gazed down into the wide valley from behind the rocks. It was not as sparse as the valley they were camped in, but not too much richer either. There was a nice sized pond to the southwest where it looked like a beaver dam held back the small creek.

Mortan pointed out a mostly hidden group of antelope on the other side of the pond, grazing in the tall grass and short brush. A single rhino and a pair of onager could be seen on the far side of the valley. There was not much else there.

"Well, I guess there isn't much to hunt here." Mortan said, frowning.

"Let's check out the creek." Frebec said, standing up straight and moving down the slope. Mortan followed.

Two thirds of the way down the slope, the brush thickened considerably as they neared the creek. The ground cover thickened more than it had looked like from the top of the rise, with thick, short grass and lots of vines with bright green leaves. It made their walk slower and a bit more ponderous as they continued.

A thick stand of brush bordered the near bank of the creek, dark and thickly entwined. They approached slowly, with spears drawn up and ready.

Frebec reached out and nudged Mortan, pointing to a particularly dark spot to their left. Mortan nodded, and they veered toward it quietly. The light breeze was blowing into their faces, carrying their scent away from the dark spot. A dead twig snapped under Frebec's foot with a loud pop.

A sudden high pitched squeal quickly followed by a deep snort and the wide bush exploded into movement before them. A huge, nearly black sow with large curling tusks burst free and came straight at them.

Mortan got off the first spear, and Frebec's flew right after. Both spears hit the sow, but she didn't slow a step as she charged. She was only ten steps or so away, and closing fast.

Letting fly with his second spear, Mortan caught the sow with a glancing blow to the left side of her face. It took most of her ear with it as the spear bounced away with a chunk of dark, bleeding flesh with it.

Frebec dropped his spear thrower and pulled his long throwing spear from the second scabbard on his back, and shoved Mortan down roughly behind him. He squared his feet and got a strong double handed grip on the spear, and waited. He didn't have long to wait.

The sow was upon him, and he thrust the spear at her chest, but she ducked and snapped at his feet. The spear took her in the back of the neck just above her rippling shoulders, and he shoved it in as hard as he could. The point went deep, and the sow screamed out and twisted her head violently. Frebec lost his balance and went to his knees, twisting and shoving the spear as hard as he could, trying to keep the sow off him. The loud clacks of her teeth as she missed him again and again sent chills of fear washing over him. Frebec shoved against her with all his might, his fear giving him added strength.

A lightweight spear suddenly appeared just below her head, penetrating her neck deeply. The sow's screaming subsided in a gurgling, snapping, choked off sound. Her body twisted and her legs kicked out violently as she tried to regain her footing. Another spear took her in the belly, ripping the skin open from the obtuse angle of the blow.

Frebec dropped the spear and scrambled back and to his feet. Mortan was there, with another spear ready in his spear thrower, waiting and watching. The sow struggled, but could not regain her feet.

The bush rattled, and six piglets came running out in a single file line. Squealing and bawling, they ran to their mother who writhed in agony in the dirt. They were as tall as the middle of Mortan's calf, fat, and very quick afoot.

Mortan grinned, and dropped the last one with a well placed spear. Frebec joined him, and soon they were all dead. The sow still breathed, but her efforts drained the last of her strength, and then she gasped loudly and breathed no more.

Frebec looked over the carnage, then down to Mortan beside him. He tried to speak, but his mouth was so dry no words would form. His grin worked though, Mortan's did too.

When Mortan started to laugh, Frebec was able to join him. He put his hand on the boys shoulder, and they laughed louder and harder. Frebec's knees still shook, but he couldn't remember when he had last felt so very alive.

**********

"Are you sure?" Tulie asked, an almost exasperated look on her face.

"Mother, really?" Latie added with a surprised grin. She absently stroked Bralut's thin reddish blond hair, the boy had a full belly of milk and was taking a nap in her lap.

Nezzie just smiled and glowed, and then reached down and patted her ample belly. She was a little thinner now than she normally was, the constant exercise from the trip had thinned many of the heavier travelers. Her look of complete satisfaction pretty much said it all. They sat on a small patch of grass in the shade of three short trees to the west of the camp.

"How long?" Tulie asked, grinning broadly and having a hard time believing it all.

"I'm pretty sure only a couple of moons, not too long." She looked over to Tulie. "That Talut. I can only imagine how he'll puff up and brag when I tell him."

The three women started laughing, softly at first, all of them picturing Talut's reactions in their own minds. Then they really got tickled from their different mental pictures.

Deegie walked over carrying Brydag in the crook of her arm, he was in the middle of his own lunch. She was grinning at the silly laughter emanating from the ladies, and more than a little curious. The three of them were all red in the face and still giggling by the time she sat down with them.

"What could possibly be so funny? Is Latie pregnant again?" She asked, looking from one woman to the other, to the other.

This caused a fresh spate of laughter, and Deegie got caught up in it from the hilarity of the other three without knowing the specifics. She noticed that Nezzie seemed to be laughing the hardest, and saw that the older woman had tears forming in her eyes.

"Mother is the pregnant one!" Latie gushed, and laughed even harder.

Deegie was perplexed, it took her a long moment to get over the shock of the news. Then she looked directly at Tulie. "Well mother, are you pregnant too?"

Tulie slapped her knees and laughed all the louder. Brydag jumped at the sudden sound and bit down hard on Deegie's nipple making her yelp. Bralut woke up and squalled, waving his pudgy hands around hitting Latie in the breast causing her to squeal. Nezzie guffawed, watching the young mothers get beat up by their babies, laughing all the harder.

Talut held the front legs of the sow apart, pushing them wider away from each other while Frebec leaned in to continue the cut he was working on. It had taken six men to carry the heavy sow back to camp. He looked over at the women off by themselves, wondering what was so funny. Frebec slit the skin of the sow's belly up to the center of the chest, then pulled out the knife to reposition it and looked over at the women as well. Rymar and Branag worked over the rear of the sow. Frebec looked up at Talut with a questioning expression on his face, Talut just shook his head, he had no clue either.

Danug sat with one of the piglets in front of him, Mortan sat beside him with a piglet in front of him too. Danug set his knife point at the anus of the pig, and paused to let Mortan mimic him, then pulled the blade up the center of the pig's belly. Mortan watched, then made the same type of cut. Danug watched, then nodded his head and he went on to the next place and putting his knife into position, Mortan watched intently, aping his every move.

Laughter rang out again from the women, Danug looked over at them, wondering. Mortan never took his eyes off Danug, and waited patiently.

Vincavec and Barzec came over from behind the tent. They stopped to look over at the loud group of women, then joined the men working on the pigs.

"Do you want to stay and get all this cooked before we head out again?" Barzec asked.

"I think we should, besides, I'm hungry and this will be great." Talut said grinning as he pulled the front leg loose as Frebec cut through the last of the tendon holding it in place.

"What's with the women?" Vincavec asked, glancing over at them.

"Who knows?" Talut began, but Danug cut him off.

"Women don't need a reason, but whatever it is it must be really funny. They've been at it for a while." Danug grinned as he continued. "They're probably comparing how their men are between the furs."

"Then they must be speaking of me!" Talut said, smiling broadly.

"Then why are they laughing so loud?" Vincavec asked, causing Talut's face to redden, while the other men laughed all the louder.

**********

Wymez and Rymar laid out the new weapons into four piles. The smallest of the spears for the spear throwers in one, larger varieties of the same in the next. Full length throwing spears were next, and three monster sized throwing spears, two axes, and a flat bludgeon close by.

The leather straps that held the flint pieces in place was dry, but not completely hardened. It would be another full day before the weapons would be totally cured and fully usable. It was quite an impressive sight, three of the four piles were quite large and the camp would be very well armed again when they were all passed out and distributed.

"We should probably do this again in a few days." Rymar said.

"Help me keep an eye out for more fresh flint." Wymez answered. "We can make fresh points as we travel, and not be in such a rush next time."

"Wymez, even your hurried points are works of art." Rymar said, grinning. "These are fine spears and you know it."

Wymez smiled back at Rymar, a proud look on his face. "We are blessed to have so many fine workers of the stone in this camp. Shaft makers as well."

Talut and Danug set up a second spit over the main camp fire, and the smell of roasting meat soon permeated the entire area. The pile of firewood had been replenished, and more was being brought up and into the camp.

Tulie and Marsie set up a buffet line of hot and cold foods, Nezzie and Tressie put the finishing touches on a vegetable stew. Jaycie sliced up the larger mushrooms and tossed the smaller ones in whole while Mamie cut some fat tubers into round slices.

Stolie and Regan sliced the last of the small, tart apples and a few of the nearly ripe strawberries and mixed them together in a basket of water. They added heating stones and let them simmer together, blending their flavors pleasantly as they cooked. When the fruit was completely softened up, they poured off the excess water and used a cut off section of the knee bone of a horse to mash the fruit into a thick paste and set it off to cool.

Ranec and Tricie used a combination of cracked grain and whole wheat mash to fashion small, palm sized cakes as thick as Ranec's thumb. They used a flat rock at the edge of the fire to cook them on, and flipped them with the sharpened edge of a palmate antler when they were deep brown and crisp.

Stolie and Regan smeared the fruit paste over the fully cooked cakes while they were hot and fresh off the fire. They stacked them on a pelvic bone platter and added it to the buffet line.

People ate in small groups, pausing between chores and filling platters from the buffet. Talut and Danug made several trips through the line, side by side each time.

By dusk, everyone had made at least one trip through the serving line, and most had made two. Ample provisions for the night were all in place, and there was little to do but rest and enjoy each others company. Perimeter fires were set up and ready to light, with plenty of firewood piled nearby.

The bare carcases of the pigs had been dragged out to the north away from the camp and covered with dirt and stones late in the afternoon. Though a good way from the camp, the night watch would still have to keep a good eye to the north for any bold scavengers that the smells would inevitably draw.

Branag took the first watch with Brenan, Danug , and Jozen. They decided to stay paired up for safety, with Latie and Stolie still cooking through the night in the first shift, the smells would be too much for some scavengers to ignore.

The cool night air was a relief from the hot day, and a soft wind blew in from the southeast. The sky was mostly clear and rather dark with the lack of the moon, stars looked brighter and sparkled against the dark background beautifully.

**********

Dawn brought a wave of activity as the camp stirred. Nezzie and Marsie prepped the serving line of the buffet for one last round and the tents were broken down and packed up. Wymez and Rymar passed out spears to all the hunters, by the time they were done, everyone had full quivers again. The two extra large throwing spears went to Talut and Danug.

Tressie and Matera changed bandages and cleaned wounds. Talut's swollen hand was wrapped up again, but it looked a lot better now. The deep purple around his knuckles was beginning to fade into a softer green and the swelling was down quite a lot.

The group assembled for travel, and Ludeg and Branag led them southeast through the valley. The grass was wet with dew, and the sledges slid smoothly. They made their way easily all the way through the valley and up onto the gentle slope beyond. The next rise was a little steeper, and the amount of trees and brush increased as they climbed up the hillside.

At the apex of the rise, they stopped for a water break and nibbled on the last of the fruit paste covered grain cakes from the night before. The ground dropped off a little, but was mostly flat and much more heavily wooded. The trees here were taller, mostly pine, birch and maple. The ground rose up gently, and they could see that either the trees grew considerably taller in the distance, or they were approaching another gentle rise in the land.

It was much cooler traveling with the heavier tree cover, shade cooled the winds and blocked some of the harsh rays of the sun. They made good time even though they had to vary their course to avoid clusters of close knit trees and brush. By late afternoon, they wandered through two thick stands of birch and came onto a small spring fed pond that was shaped by a beaver dam to the southern end. It looked to be a great place to bed down for the night.

**********

Branag and Danug lit the perimeter fires, and Vincavec and Thorec joined them for the first watch. An abundance of animal tracks had been found around the pond, mostly deer and antelope, but bear and some large cats and wolf tracks were all seen as well.

They decided to stay in pairs for the added measure of safety that this provided. The moonless night was dark, and the shadows the trees cast made it seem darker still. The light wind tended to gust mostly from the southeast, and while the rustling of the leaves overhead was a soothing sound, it masked the soft movement of the nocturnal animals.

Wolves howled from all directions, some close, but most were far away. Nighthawks screeched and owls hooted throughout the night. The guards even heard the occasional snorts of pigs from the far side of the pond.

The change of the guards signaled that half the night was finally gone, and Ludeg and Brenan took over with Jozen and Talut for the second watch. Talut carried his heavy axe in his good hand. They kept the fires all built up and burning brightly, they had no lack of dead fall and there was no real threat of running out of fuel.

The men stayed diligent all night, and though there were many sounds around them they were never directly threatened. Toward dawn, the grunts of a bear came from somewhere near the pond, but they never caught sight of him. It got their attention though, and they kept their eyes pealed.

**********

Talut spied the two moose at the first light of dawn. They waded knee deep in the shallows of the pond to the southeast side. It was a full grown female and a yearling a third her size. It was all he could do to not get a hunting party together, but he knew they already had all the meat that they could carry. They took off as daylight revealed the size of the massive camp, lumbering away through the trees to the east in no real hurry.

This day started much the same way the day before had, a first meal was ready at dawn and they were on the move shortly thereafter. Passing the pond, they veered a little more southerly around the thickening, encroaching tree cover, winding their way through the scattered brush.

Animal track and signs were everywhere. They caught glimpses of many different kinds of deer, spotted, red, white tail, even a few elk and a single dark grey deer had all been seen by mid afternoon. Mouflon and the light colored sheep with their magnificent curved horns had also been seen in the distance through the trees on the far slopes of the hills to the east.

The land was rich with wildlife, and the vegetation offered a fabulous choice of edible plants. Small patches of wheat, oats, barley, and cabbage popped up in the clearings. Mushrooms and lichen were found in the shade of the edge of the tree line. Different types of tubers and fat roots and a few squash were found. Many varieties of berry covered bushes and even a few short linden trees were encountered along the way.

Toward dark, they came upon a low, rocky bluff that stuck up about waist high at the edge of the trees that was covered with green vines and purple grapes. The ground in front of them was growing thicker with tree cover and beginning to ascend into what looked to be another small rise. It looked to be a good place to make camp for the night.

Camp was set up quickly, and four different teams of women with a pair of male guards each went out to gather up some of the bounty of the land. Fuel for the fires was everywhere and easy to gather, but the stones to line the fire pits had to be carried in from the rocky bluff. Three rabbits were speared as the group of gatherers approached the grapevines, and ended up being the main ingredient for a nice stew. Four small firestones were also found as the base of the rocky bluff by the men gathering stones for the fire. Mortan decided to stay there while the women harvested the sweet grapes, and found three more before they were finished.

Brenan and Ranec went out in search for more spear shafts, with Druwez and Danug helping them. Maple and birch both made for excellent spear stock, but the straight pieces that were the correct diameter were often too high up and out of reach. Druwez stood on top of Danug's wide shoulders to reach several of them, and they had a nice size bundle gathered up well before dark.

They would cut the shafts to length, then tie them tightly into small bundles to allow them to dry out naturally. Tying them into bundles would help to keep them straight and true, though some inevitably would have to be straightened later.

The wolves began their songs well before the darkness of the night was fully in force. These wolves of the woods tended to be more vocal, and seemed to travel in smaller, but more abundant packs judging by the frequency of their songs.

The first, small sliver of the moon appeared shortly after the sun was down, and this night was just a little less black because of it. The sky stayed relatively clear, with a few thin clouds blowing through on the high winds. Stars glistened brightly in the dark sky. Another long day of travel was done.

**********

The light of dawn broke through the trees sporadically, and for the first time in a long time the camp was slow to get up and around. It was still early when they got all packed up and started out, but much later than the last several mornings.

The tree line ahead looked thicker than anything they had encountered thus far, and when they reached it slowed their progress considerably. Forced to tighten their formation into single, more narrow lines, they worked their way up the slope and into the thick, dark woods. The width of the sledges hindered them from time to time, pushing them into winding their way erratically between the close knit trees. Many times the travelers found themselves in two or three different lines, weaving through the woods roughly parallel to each other.

The best part of traveling through the heavy tree cover was how cool it was in the shade, even the breeze was cooler. This helped to keep their spirits high and the general mood good even through the added difficulties the woods presented them with. The slight rise continued, and the land was somewhat terraced. It made for long, wide flats and narrow, gentle slopes that were pretty easy to deal with.

Toward mid day, they gathered in a small clearing to rest up and fix a second meal. Since they had made decent progress, Tulie and Nezzie decided to heat up some of the cooked pork and warm the leftover rabbit stew. It would take a little longer, but the wait would definitely be worth it.

Mortan asked for permission to hunt the immediate area, and Rymar decided to come along with him and Frebec. The three men cut off a healthy sized section of the cold flank of the sow, and ate it while they started out due south through the woods.

It was not easy to move quietly, dead leaves covered the ground ankle deep in most places and scrunched and rustled with every step they took. Moving slowly with small steps helped, and they stayed close together winding through the abundant trees. Occasionally, they could hear animals running away from them in the near distance, but no one had been able to actually see anything yet.

Rymar felt it before he really heard it, the low, rumbling sound that could mean nothing good. He reached out and touched Mortan's shoulder just in front of him, the boy stopped instantly. Frebec heard it too, and stopped on his own behind them.

In the newfound quiet, all three hunters tried to locate the source of the sound. One thing they realized quickly, it was close. Too close.

Mortan saw something move through the trees, and pointed at it. The older men looked closely, and finally spied a slight movement through the thick cover. A deep scratching sound joined the low rumbling, and a low pitched growl rolled over to them on the soft wind.

The bear stepped back away from the tree and dropped to all fours. He was now in full view of the hunters between the trees, it was a cave bear. No adult cave bear was small, but this one seemed even bigger than normal. The bear had been sharpening his huge claws on the trunk of a tall birch tree, and the rumbling noise they heard was his satisfied grunting from the exertion of his efforts. He lifted his head and looked around, testing the scents on the breeze. If he saw the hunters, he gave no indication of it.

"Back off quietly." Rymar whispered.

The three hunters slowly retraced their steps, taking their eyes off the huge bear only to study they ground for the briefest of moments to know where to put their feet as they backed off. The wind favored them, blowing their scent away from the bear.

They soon lost sight of the bear, but stayed quiet until they had put quite a bit of ground between them. They got together in the shade and whispered.

"That bear was huge! I've never seen anything that big!" Mortan's young voice trembled with excitement.

"That was a cave bear, the biggest bear of them all." Frebec whispered back, grinning at the lads enthusiasm. He wasn't sure he had ever seen one that big either, it was an incredible sight.

"That's Ursus?" Mortan asked, his eyes wide with wonder.

"In the flesh." Rymar said, his voice soft.

"But I thought they don't eat meat, why did we have to run away?" Mortan was still young enough to have the bravado of those who didn't know any better.

"Just because an animal doesn't hunt, it doesn't mean they aren't dangerous." Rymar began. "Rhinoceros don't eat meat."

The wisdom of his teacher's words sank in immediately, Mortan felt a sudden pang of fear at what they had just encountered. His hands began to quiver slightly.

"Of course." Mortan said so quietly it was barely audible. This was one lesson that would never have to be repeated.

"I think we should go back and warn the others that we'll need to head a little more southwesterly when we start out again." Frebec said, trying not to grin at Mortan's slight loss of face. He put a hand on the boy's shoulder, and together followed Rymar back the way they came, looking over their shoulders often.

**********

The traveling band reached the last rise of the terrace late in the afternoon. The tree cover had increased throughout the days trek, slowing them more today than it had yesterday. The forest was changing, evergreens popped up growing extremely close together as they were prone to do. Tall pines with fat pine cones dangling off their numerous branches, and even more scattered on the ground all around. The sweet smell of pine needles, permeated the area with their strong scent. Where the pines began, the other species of trees began to thin.

At the top of the rise, the view changed considerably down below. The drop off was slight, onto a wide flat plateau. It was very heavily wooded for as far as they could see.

"Well, this is something new." Branag said, looking over the lands before them.

"Wow, I've never seen such a forest." Talut said. "This might get interesting indeed."

"It's not so bad, I had to go through several forests like this on my journey." Danug chimed in, sounding a little more confident than he really felt.

"Wymez, do we have a lot of this kind of country to traverse?" Talut asked as the older man walked up to join them on the ridge.

Wymez was quietly looking over the large plateau, thinking back as he did. He looked across the trees from the east, slowly to the south, and then on to the west. His eyes were drawn suddenly back to something that appeared out of place due south. It was there, now it was gone.

"Wymez, did you hear me?" Talut asked again, looking at him with a little worry in his green eyes.

"What? Oh, Talut I'm sorry." Wymez said absentmindedly, his eyes still searching the horizon. "What did you say?"

Talut grinned, and asked him again. "Is it like this for very far, this heavy forest, I mean?"

"No, not really. It ends pretty much thins out near the river, we're almost back to where the river cuts back to the south again." Wymez never took his eyes off the unusual sight, there it was again and he was sure now. It was smoke, the smoke of a camp fire.

"Talut, we may have a problem." He said softly, almost under his breath.

"Smoke! Oh, Mut there's smoke to the south!" Ludeg said, pointing to the thin wisp of smoke coming through the tops of the trees.

They all shifted their eyes to the south. The smoke disappeared as he pointed, but reappeared a moment later as they all looked for it. This time, the wind was a little lighter and it rose up into the air for a good way before dissipating again. This time, they all saw it.

"Tulie, get Vincavec and get over here." Talut called out.

**********

"...we have no choice, we can either try to get past them and run, or we have to find out who it is without them seeing us." Tulie was saying, sounding flustered. She was tiring of the arguments and wanted a decision of some kind.

The entire camp was gathered in the small clearing, and as the Mamutoi were prone to do, they offered their opinions freely. Loud and vocal, there were many speaking at once, and it was impossible to hear everyone's individual views.

"All right, all right!" Talut raised his voice above the din. "Let's settle down."

"Surely it can't be the northerners!" Marsie said loudly, over the noise. "How could they possibly have found us? How would they know which way we've gone?"

"We don't know who it is." Matera said in answer. "But there could be more to it than it seems right now. Think about it."

It got loud again.

Ludeg stood up, Wymez joining him, and they both faced the rowdy crowd. The noise level dropped off slightly as they stepped forward together.

"Listen, if we send scouts to find out who is out here with us, unless you all stay here we may not be able to find you quickly." Ludeg said, loud enough for all to hear, and the noise level fell off.

"This is easy country to get lost in, this forest stretches all the way back to the river." Wymez said, taking the lead. "Even if we cut back southwest to follow the river it would be easy for the scouts to get lost and not be able to catch up with the rest of us in a timely manner. This forest is thick and really hard to traverse, it is very easy to lose all sense of direction in the middle of these thick trees."

"We can follow this ridge line though, and stay on the edge of this wooded plateau and it will take us to the river on farther to the south." Ludeg added. "We should pass by them and be well past them that way by the time we get to the river."

"Unless they are heading to the river themselves." Frebec broke in, then went on. "What do we do then?"

Talut spoke up. "From here on, I think we should have an advance scouting party go before the rest of us."

"But Talut, if it's them we would have to fight." Frebec continued. "We will probably be outnumbered again—and look at us. Look at all the women, and the kids."

The crowd noise began anew. Talut waited it out, and when it began to subside, he spoke again.

"I don't want to have to fight again, Frebec, you know that. You all know that. We have to avoid contact at all costs, all contact, even if it's not them. There are enough of us to carry the loads, we can spare a few men to go on ahead of us. They will stay in touch, and maybe even make camp with us most nights, the way I see it."

Latie and Deegie shared a worried look, so did Stolie and Regan. They knew it would inevitably be their men who would be involved in the scouting parties at least some of the time. This wasn't a very welcome turn of events, for any of them.

Not everyone in the large mixed camp had any direct experience in facing the raiders of the renegade camps of the newly formed Northern Mamutoi. Those who did understood completely the possible dangers, if it was in fact the renegades—again. Mixed emotions ran rampant.

"With all the women and children we have, it would be best to get by whoever it is out there without being noticed, Talut's right." Vincavec said, Matera standing next to him with her arm wrapped around his waist.

"Even if it is not those from the north, I don't think it would be wise to expose ourselves to anyone who could give away any hints as to even which direction we are going." He paused to let this sink in, then continued. "We may be followed, maybe not right away, but I'm afraid they will eventually come after us. We know what they are all about, we know what all they have done and I don't think they want us to be able to expose their evil intentions. Now, or ever."

The crowd stayed quiet, thinking about what all Vincavec had said. Though it had occurred to most of them at one time or another that this possibility existed, most had not really had to face up to it until now. The silence hung over the entire gathering, thick and heavy.

"If anyone has a better idea, speak up now." Tulie said finally breaking the quiet. "If we do this we need to get moving."

Brydag cried out, tired of being held without the comfort of his mother's nipple. His voice was stronger and louder than it should have been for one his age. Deegie opened her sweaty tunic and quieted the boy with the very best of comforts. The quiet returned.

"All right, Ludeg you take three men and get going." Talut began. "Stay on the ridge line and leave markers as you go."

Ludeg nodded, and looked over at Danug, Branag, and finally Brenan. The three men just nodded, and all four of them pulled their back packs off their shoulders and dropped them to the ground at their feet. They started going through them, and pulling out things that they didn't need for this new type of mission.

Nezzie went over to one of the sledges, and she and Tulie pulled out several packets and started putting together a few packs of different foods. There was not a lot of prepared foods for traveling as they had been fixing real meals so often, but they made due and soon had a good size pile made up.

The rest of the camp moved around restlessly, but the noise volume never got very high now. The mates of the scouts all came up to help their men get ready to go, and to say their goodbyes.

Wymez and Rymar checked their weapon supplies, and added a few items where necessary. They were pretty well stocked after all the new weapons had been made over the last few days, but Rymar gave Brenan and Branag each a small axe with short bone handles that they could hang on their belts.

It didn't take too long before they were ready to go, but the goodbyes were hard and took a little while. Brenan held Bralut to his chest, cuddling the boy and smothering him and Latie with kisses and teasing little shows of his affection for the both of them.

Branag did the same with the son of his hearth and Deegie. Deegie's brave face finally broke, and she cried openly, burying her head into Branag's wide shoulders. Brydag tugged on his hair, and managed to pull free the thin strap that held his ponytail in place. Branag lifted the boy free, and held him up over his head, Brydag squealed with delight and kicked his legs erratically. Deegie couldn't help but to smile through her tears as she took the fat little guy back.

The four of them got together with Talut and the rest of the leaders off to the southern edge of the clearing. There was still a few hours of daylight left.

"Only make a small fire after dark, and make sure it is completely out before dawn." Vincavec said.

"Be sure and leave us signs as you go." Tulie added.

"For the first few days, one of you should come back to our camp every night. After that we'll see." Talut said.

"We got it, one of us will be back tomorrow night." Brenan said, grinning at all the last minute instructions.

"You be careful." Deegie said, looking up at her large, strapping mate.

Branag leaned down and kissed her again, softly and tenderly. Then he turned and the four of them jogged off to the south along the edge of the ridge in a single file line.

Latie wiped a tear from her cheek, watching them leave. She wasn't the only one with wet eyes.


	14. Chapter 13 Part 1

**Chapter Thirteen**

_**Ducks, Geese, Salmon, and Bears**_

**Part One**

Brug raised up slowly, looking through the dark green, strong smelling leaves of the top of the bush covered with red berries. The strength of the aroma almost made his eyes water. His eyes searched the ground to his left, then slowly worked his way back to his right. There, movement. He waited, raising his spear up into throwing position, until he had a better view. A dark shape appeared through the tall strands of green grass, lumbering along slowly, then stopping. The landscape was still a little dim, it was the very first light of dawn.

The dark shape slipped through the thick clumps of tall grass, going in and out of sight in the shadows and deep green, thick grass blades. A glimpse of a fat, compact body, then it was gone. Erratic movement, starts and stops, but slow, every movement was always very slow and deliberate.

Taking a deep breath, he stood up straight from his hunched over position and judged the distance and tried to anticipate the direction of the next movement, then he flung the spear. Brug pulled another spear from the scabbard strapped across his back, never having taken his eye off the target. The spear flew straight and true, and when it hit he heard a brief grunt and then a short lived, high pitched squeal and the rustling sounds of feet against the grass. Brug pulled the second spear up to shoulder height and stepped around the pungent bush to face the wriggling small dark colored animal in the darkness of the shadows out in front of him. He approached it slowly and cautiously.

Brug had never seen anything like it, he touched the animal's small flank with the sharp tip of his spear. The animal wiggled once sluggishly, then was still. There looked to be small spears sticking up all over his prone body, even from the top of its head. How unusual, he thought. Brug reached down with his left hand and tentatively touched a small spear tip sticking up from his back. It was sharp and stiff. He watched in amazement as the short spikes slowly lay down all at the same time, almost like a thick mane of hair.

The young hunter reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out a thin strap of leather, and set his spear down on the ground beside him. He slipped the strap around the back feet of the unusual looking animal and tied his feet together then stood back up. Brug reached down and grabbed the haft of the spear that stuck through the front shoulder of the small beast and on into the ground, and put his right foot softly against his rib cage. Feeling no sharp points or pain through his foot covering, he pulled the spear softly free from the odd looking animal.

Brug wiped the blood and tissue off the tip of the spear on the grass and placed it back in the scabbard across the middle of his back and picked up his other spear. He grabbed the strap of leather and picked up the short, fat animal and turned to walk back toward camp. Brug couldn't wait to see if any of the other hunters knew what this odd looking, spear covered animal was called. He hoped that it was good to eat, but had no idea if it was or not.

A sudden, soft flurry of wings beating overhead made him look up, a large flock of ducks, some with bright green heads flew by over his head. They quit flapping and set their wings and glided down toward the river off to his right and disappeared through the cover of trees. The sunlight was a little brighter now, and he could feel the first warmth of the day on his face.

Brug quickened his step, and hurried on back winding his way through the low brush toward camp. The spines of the animal bumped into his thigh, poking him all the way through his leather breeches. Brug looked down in surprise and slowed to a stop to free the sharp points. He had a little trouble pulling them out through the leather, they seemed stuck. After wrestling with it for a moment, he lost patience and got a firm grip on the three impaled spines and yanked. Hard. The points came free, but Brug felt a series of small pricks between his fingers. He lifted his fingers up close to his face and saw a bunch of tiny black hairs sticking out of his fingers. What is this all about, he wondered. When he rubbed his fingers together he felt a series of painful little pricks.

**********

Crag saw Brug coming through the brush, and wondered what he had killed this morning. He was startled when he saw the porcupine that Brug held out well away from his body as he walked.

Aba saw him coming as well. She got up from where she sat at the fire slicing up a mushroom into wide strips on a bone platter piled with whole mushrooms on one side and sliced strips on the other. She walked out to meet her son, glowing with pride as she did almost every morning when he return from his solo hunting forays.

'Be careful, this strange animal has sharp spears all over its body.' Brug signed when she reached him, holding the stocky animal out away from them both.

'This is a porcupine.' She signed, then took the animal from him holding the heavy little guy well away from her bare legs. Aba wore only a small skin tied around her waist in the cool morning.

Brug shook his head, not recognizing the sign for the animal. Aba made the sign again, and from somewhere in his memories, the sign registered this time. Brug nodded, and walked just in front of his mother as they walked to the fire, searching his memories for more information.

Etra handed Brug a cup of steaming hot tea and he took it from her with a grunt of appreciation. When Etra started to turn away, he grunted again to keep her attention.

'Medicine woman, this hunter has a small problem.' Brug signed, then held his hand up to her eye level and wiggled his fingers.

Etra took his hand gently in her own, then studied it for a moment. She saw the problem immediately and motioned for Brug to go ahead and sit down.

Brug joined Crag and Borg sitting near the fire. They went through the usual question and answer session that Crag put him through after every hunt, solo or not. This time, Brug had a few questions himself, all concerning the odd porcupine.

The discussion went on for a while, and Brug got most of his questions answered. He was pleased to find that the porcupine made for good eating. The hunters all seemed a little amused at the fact that Brug had actually come across an animal that he knew so little about. Crag was actually surprised, the boy already knew so much that this gap in his knowledge was unexpected.

When the time was correct, Brug brought up seeing the ducks, and Crag knew how anxious he was about trying out the new spears they had made. Crag wondered though, if they still needed more practice with the new weapon before hunting with it. Brug had shown remarkable improvement with the small spears since they had added the leather hand grips, and Crag had done very well with them also since they had made the improvements.

Rug came out of the tent, and approached the fire. He took the cup of tea that Ova offered and looked over to see Aba working on cleaning the porcupine. Rug watched as she took her time pulling the spiny skin away from the carcass. It took a lot of patience and skill to clean a porcupine, he thought to himself, she was doing a good job on the spiny task.

Etra followed a few steps behind Rug, and sat down next to Brug with her medicine bag in her hands. She pulled a pouch out of the bag, and removed a thin, very sharp wafer of flint. Etra took Brug's hand in her own, and with a deft, soft touch, she pinched the small spines between her thumb and the flint and slowly pulled them free, one at a time. Brug could barely feel the small stickers as she removed them, Etra had a lot of skill in her hands.

**********

The Clan traveled steadily through the heat of the day. They stayed close to the river bank throughout the majority of the morning. After a short stop for food and rest, they headed inland a little bit to get out of the heavy brush that grew thick in the dark brown dirt close to the banks. They followed a mostly clear path between the brush and where the trees began, never getting far enough away from the river to completely lose sight of it.

They encountered a wide, clear feeder creek late in the afternoon. Knee deep at the deepest, they waded across it slipping and sliding over the smooth rocky bottom. They stopped long enough to bathe in the cold, clear water before moving on to the south feeling refreshed.

**********

The river turned back easterly, pushed away from a large gentle, tree covered rise on the western bank. The Clan walked along the near bank which was now free of the low brush they had encountered this morning. Here the ground was more covered with small smooth stones and intermixed with short, deep green grass that grew in clumps and had long fingers of growth that spread out in all directions. The long, blade covered fingers wound through the smooth stones like small, spiny green snakes.

The tree line encroached closer to the river here, and the droppings of all kinds of animals littered the ground. The sun was in its final, graceful descent when they came to a place where the river began to spread out gradually into a wide, shallow waterway. Here the water was exceptionally clear, and the bottom was easily visible and almost completely paved with light colored, wide flat stones. The glimmer of fish swimming through the shallows, and hiding amongst the patches of occasional wavy green growth from the bottom was a delight to behold.

Rug and Crag stopped at the bank on a wide rock overlooking the slow moving water. Crag pointed to a silver shape moving slowly just off the bottom, another one was close behind.

On the far side of the river, three tall, thin white birds with long, graceful necks waded in the shallows. They walked close to each other, and in complete unison. With each step they took, they stopped on one leg and paused before slowly slipping the foot back into the water and taking another step forward. As one, they dipped their heads under water. When they reemerged, two of them had small fish between their beaks. Their slow dance continued.

'We will stay here tonight. Make camp.' Rug signaled to the group who all waited patiently behind the two men.

**********

Inca waded close to the near shore, walking slowly, bent over at the waist. She was naked and dangled one hand in the water beside her, fore arm deep. Her steps were slow and measured, and she veered into slightly deeper water as she headed toward one of the wide leafed underwater plants to her right.

Brug watched her every move from the bank. He studied how she walked, how her hand made a small rippling wake behind it in the slow moving current. How she held her head, where her eyes were focused. Brug missed very little.

Inca slowed even more when she was a few steps away from an underwater plant. Her arm slowly slid deeper into the water, it was thigh deep here. With a sudden jerk, she lifted her arm up and straightened her body at the same time. The water on her right side rippled and splashed as a wide tail fin broke the surface with a slap. Inca held on to the dark colored fish and kept it just under the surface of the water as she turned and waded slowly and carefully back toward shore.

Brug moved quickly to where he thought she would come out of the river. He offered her his hand to steady her as she stepped up and out of the water over the slippery stone bottom. She carried a catfish as long as her arm up onto the dry ground. Brug was so impressed that he put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently, his deep brown eyes shone brightly in the waning daylight.

**********

Well before dawn, Crag and Brug walked upriver in the still darkness. They carried the new spears they had worked on and perfected over the last several days in their hands, and had scabbards of throwing spears strapped across their backs. They walked slowly and quietly, careful of their footing on the rocky, uneven ground.

The river curved gradually to the west still, and the tree cover closed in from their left side as they got further away from the camp. The ground softened a little with more tufts of grass and up ahead they saw the dark profiles of a few scattered bushes in dim light of the thin crescent moon and the starry sky.

Crag led them to a particularly wide group of three close knit bushes that grew near the edge of the water, and they stopped there. The men went to work cutting off a couple of leaf covered branches from the side of the brush closest to the water, and getting situated comfortably in the middle of the cover.

Brug laid out the three spears, and their coils of cord in front of them. He arranged them carefully, keeping them separated from each other and easy to get to. They both set the cut branches on the ground behind them and sat down, leaning the leaf covered branches on their backs. They settled in to wait.

Crag and Brug both heard the soft sounds of wings and kept their heads low. Muted splashes scattered out all over in front of them as a gaggle of geese settled into the water. The sky was still dark, but the moon and stars were fading fast. It was all Brug could do to be perfectly still, and his eyes searched the dark water through the brush to no avail.

For Crag, the slow dawning came as it should have, but to Brug it had been the longest wait he could remember. The young hunter was as excited as he had been in a long, long time. The sun couldn't rise fast enough for him, and as his eyes were able to make out the blurry, light colored shapes on the water his impatience grew.

Crag touched his shoulder, and Brug looked up at the hunt leader and nodded his head. He knew that every move he made threatened the success of the hunt now, and his movements were all very slow and deliberate. Crag made a subtle eye motion to the left, and Brug followed it slowly.

There it was, a pair of geese swimming slowly toward them. They were on a path that varied and wandered, and every now and then ducked their heads underwater and came up with small green clumps from the bottom. They slowly got closer.

Crag reached out and picked up the spear nearest to him, and Brug did the same. Both moved so slowly that their movements were hard to see.

The pair geese were joined by another pair that neither man had seen from the west. The four of them continued on, heading into slightly deeper waters but still pretty close to shore.

Brug's heart pounded as he picked up the coil of cord and placed it carefully into his left hand and positioned it correctly. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Crag was ready as well. He looked back through the bush and followed the movement of the four geese. They had changed direction again, and for the moment were heading right at them.

Crag touched the shaft of his spear against Brug's thigh, and both men got a better grip on the spears they held. Ever so slowly they got their feet underneath them and started to slowly rise up, staying well within the cover of the brush. They stopped, all stooped over lower than the top of the bushes and waited.

Two geese ducked their heads under water, then the other two followed suit shortly thereafter. The time was right, and both hunters stood up. Brug could just see over the top of the bush, while the taller Crag stayed slightly stooped over with only his head over the leafy top. They pulled the spears up and lifted their left hands with the coils of cordage up and got ready, and they waited.

When the first goose lifted his head back up, Brug let fly. The second and third geese came up for air right after, and Crag sighted and threw his spear also. The geese were close, and Brug's spear caught his target full in the breast. Crag's spear hit the rear most goose, through the wing and into his side. He was surprised, he had actually aimed at the closer bird. Both men grabbed onto the cords and got firm grips as the large birds struggled and flapped on the surface.

The water exploded with the beating of wings, the wounded geese flapping against the disturbed water, and the other two trying to get air born. They almost seemed to run across the top of the water until their wings were able to gather enough air beneath them to gain flight. More geese took to flight as well from all around them, and the sounds of their wings broke the stillness of the serene morning.

The two geese floated now on the top of the water, one still and the other had a single wing still flapping slowly. His head gradually lowered, his beak opening and closing slowly, and finally dropped to the surface of the water, and his wing beat one last time then stilled.

Brug let out a primal scream of triumph, and Crag joined him. They walked through the small crease in between the tight brush, and started to reel in the two large white and black birds. Brug was almost overwhelmed with their accomplishment, and Crag was more than pleasantly surprised by their success, even the accidental part.

Hand over hand they pulled the cords, dragging the birds to shore. As they got close, a large silver shape passed by them in the water. Both hunters stopped and watched the long, sleek fish swim by. Then another fish appeared right in his wake, and then another. The men looked at each other, then pulled their geese up onto the rocky bank.

**********

The geese provided a wealth of valuable feathers, and Aba saved them all. The wing and tail feathers she put aside for the hunters, and the small feathers and down she kept for the women to use. Ova helped her clean the two birds, and prepared the carcases for cooking.

Aba took the long feathers to Crag and Brug who sat near the fire with the rest of the men. She dropped to he knees beside Crag and lowered her head. Crag touched her shoulder, and she held the feathers out to him.

The hunt leader took the mass of feathers in both hands with a subtle nod of thanks, and held them out to Brug on the other side of him. Aba returned to where Ova worked on getting the geese ready for the fire.

'...there are also many salmon coming upstream already.' Crag went on with what he had been saying before he had been interrupted. 'It seems a little early for them, but we saw several of the large silver ones close to the shore.'

Rug thought about this for a moment, as did the Mog-ur. Both men could taste the succulent, meaty fish and it made their mouths water at the thought. The catfish from last night had been so good, and the long winter without fresh fish had added to the flavor and longing. The new seasonings that the women used had given fish a fresh new appeal.

Ever since their winter with the Others, the women had prepared food a little differently. The spices and seasonings they used now on a regular basis reminded Mog-ur of the food at Clan meetings. The added knowledge that the women had picked up from the women of the Others had been integrated into their daily routines. It made for very interesting, tasty meals.

Rug thought about delaying their travels long enough to stay here and fish. He considered the pros and cons silently. The Clan had come a long way, but not knowing how far they had yet to go made it difficult to make a good, informed decision. What lay ahead was more mystery, more of the unknown. Decisions like this were by far the hardest for the Clan leader to decipher and implement. He wondered how the Mog-ur would feel about a short delay. Any dely.

Mog-ur could almost read Rug's mind as he watched the leader deep in silent contemplation. It was easy for the holy man to see that Rug wanted to stop and fish, and even easier to know why. Mog-ur couldn't remember when he had last tasted anything as good as the catfish had been last night, it was perfect, and salmon was even tastier than catfish. Not to mention roe.

Etra walked over and incidentally broke the Mog-ur's train of thought. She knelt in front of Draag and when he acknowledged her presence, she began her daily examination of the cast on his leg. Mog-ur watched her work, he could tell that something was not to her liking as she manipulated the hunter's leg. Draag didn't notice the subtle signs of her concern, he was enveloped in a deep conversation with Brug at the moment.

'...these new spears are much lighter and that makes them harder to control.' Brug's deep brown eyes shown with the rare opportunity he had being the center of attention teaching instead of learning from his fellow hunters.

"Brug" is correct.' Crag added. 'The spears tend to fly high even with the cord pulling against them. The bird I killed today was not the bird I aimed for.'

Brug's eyes grew wide at this admission, he had had no clue. He paid his teacher rapt attention as he continued.

'I was trying for a bird that was closer to me, this one swam behind my intended target.' Crag paused, then went on. 'Mine was a lucky shot.'

'Is this new spear difficult to learn?' Troog asked, looking at Crag.

"Brug." Crag said, nodding for the young hunter to answer.

Brug almost jumped at the sound of his name. It was a rare thing for the hunters to learn from him, but the pride that showed in his eyes as the hunt leader deferred to him was evident as he considered his answer.

Mog-ur enjoyed the byplay, and settled in to watch. The other hunters had always given their youngest hunter more respect than the lowest ranked hunter of any other Clan would normally be afforded. This Clan was so sorely shy of hunters, it was understandable though.

'The new spears require a lot of practice to gain the skill needed. It is more a matter of learning to curb your strength at first in order to learn proper control.' Brug exhaled loudly as he finished signing, he hadn't realized that he had been holding his breath.

'This is by far the hardest part, "Brug" has explained it correctly.' Crag signed, inwardly proud of how the boy had worded his knowledgeable reply. 'One must use less speed at first or the spear will fly too high. Even when a certain amount of skill is achieved, it is something that must be remembered each time you cast the spear. I was lucky, "Brug" showed skill.'

Brug absolutely glowed with the compliment.

'I think it would be wise for the rest of you to learn this valuable new hunting weapon,' Crag began. "Brug" and I will help you make some of these new spears...'

This Clan is different, Mog-ur thought to himself as he watched the conversation. Compliments were normally shunned, almost like a bad omen. As a rule, a job well done was always considered to be enough, more would anger Ursus. This was the Clan belief, he considered, but was it really true? Was this something that Brug simply hadn't learned yet, or was there more to it than that? Mog-ur thought about this, abstracts were a difficult concept for him and he had to give them deep thought to make any sense of them at all.

Why would something as simple as telling someone that they have done a good job anger the almighty Ursus? It was essential in helping a young boy like Brug keep a good attitude and to strive to be successful learning all these difficult skills. Mog-ur must meditate on this, there is more to it than simple tradition, he thought. There must be. It was a little disconcerting to question Clan ways, but Mog-ur had been through so much that it was something he had done often over the last year or so. His attention was pulled back as he saw Etra looking at him with a questioning expression on her face, somehow she had knelt before him without his noticing. As he looked up, he also noticed Rug looking at him.

'The Clan leader instructed this woman to ask you if we have time to stay here for two days so that I may replace "Draag's" leg cast. It is showing too much wear and tear.' Etra signed demurely, thinking that she had probably interrupted the Mog-ur, which she had. 'There are birch trees here, they make for better casts than the hard mud and skin wraps. They are lighter too, "Draag" will find it easier to walk with a new cast made from birch. It will take a full day to set and harden correctly, though.'

Mog-ur was a little surprised that he had missed this entire conversation. This did make it easier for Rug, he thought, he does want to stay and fish. Why not, he asked himself once more, tasting the fresh fish in his mind.

'Yes, we can stay if the Clan leader so wishes.'

**********

Troog and Draag went out in search of a birch tree with Etra and little Ooga in tow. Troog carried the small hand axe that Bran-nah of the Others had given Crag as a parting gift when the Clan had begun their journey. It was a fine tool, and he marveled at the craftsmanship.

It didn't take long to locate a tree large enough around to yield a big enough piece of bark to suffice their needs. Etra explained what she required, and the men went to work. She and the youngster, Ooga, explored the area close by. They would not get out of sight of the men.

**********

Crag and Rug unfolded the only net that they had on the ground. Borg and Brug knelt down with them and they looked it over for any tears or flaws. The net was a new one that they had made last winter, and had yet to use. A few knots needed attention, but other than that it was in great shape.

When the net was laid out it was twice as long as a man, and almost as tall in width. The repairs were quickly made, and Crag folded it over and he and Rug carried it down to the rocky bank of the river. Ova and Aba went with them.

**********

Mog-ur watched the camp empty out, Inca was the only one left, and she worked on spitting the two geese. He decided to use this time to find a place to be alone and meditate. He informed Inca the direction he was going and walked upriver along the shoreline.

The river sounds were soft and soothing, and Mog-ur had a stray thought that he might be able to meditate while walking. A silver streak appeared in the water, sliding upstream easily and quickly. We will have a nice meal, he thought confidently.

**********

The men at the river stripped off all their clothing. Ova and Aba hung around them near the bank. Ova straightened up the wraps as the men dropped them into neat little piles. Brug was the only one completely dressed, the others had on only a small skin tied around their waists as they tended to do around camp.

The water was cold, but refreshing as all the men waded out into the river. The current here was mild but constant. The greater width and shallower depth of the river here preventing the stronger surges that deeper water had.

Brug and Crag stayed closer to shore, while Rug and Borg waded just a little further out. The water was almost mid thigh deep on Crag, and it went up to the top of Rug's thigh.

Crag held one end of the net, and Rug carried the other, both men holding it well above the rippling surface. When they got situated, they stretched the net out and Brug and Borg took the bottom of the net. They held their positions and waited, watching the rippling water.

Brug was the first to see a fish swim by, it passed right next to his leg and he lifted his free hand up to let the others know. Rug spotted another, and lifted one hand as well. Crag watched the water, and kept the other hunters in his peripheral vision when Borg lifted his hand, Crag grunted and the men went into action.

Brug and Borg shoved the bottom ends of the net as deep into the water as they could reach without dunking their heads under water, and Crag and Rug dropped their ends to just below the surface. Almost immediately, they all felt the net being bumped and pulled.

Crag grunted again, and Brug and Borg pulled their ends of the net up to their knees, and then Borg and Rug walked around Brug and Crag toward shore. Before they got even with the men in the shallows, Crag and Brug headed to shore also.

The four men got to the rocky drop off and lifted the net up, it wiggled and twitched as they pulled it up. Aba and Ova were ready, and they grabbed the net from the four men from each end and pulled it out of the water and up onto the bank. Three large silver salmon struggled and flopped on the ground, tangled up in the net.

With a final pull, the women slid the net away from the water a little further. They pulled the net apart and started to pull the heavy fish free of the net. Brug scrambled out of the water and joined them, grabbing the largest fish by the gills to slow her struggling and try to prevent her from damaging the net. Her lower belly bulged with eggs.

**********

Troog handled the axe with great skill, chopping softly in controlled shallow strokes. He was working his way around the tree about chest high. Draag had just completed his cuts, and a ring of raw wood shown through a bout knee high off the ground. Etra had given them marks to go by, and they had followed them expertly.

Ooga reached down and stabbed her digging stick into the ground next to a small clump of bright green, wide leaves with soft points on them. Etra watched and nodded to the young girl when she looked up at her for approval. Ooga shifted her weight on the stick, and broke up the dirt and pulled it out to do it again where the loose dirt ended.

Etra knelt down next to Ooga, and after her third stab she helped the young girl pull free a trio of fat tubers. Etra handed Ooga her knife, and she cut the thin roots away from the bulbous, thick sections of the roots. They placed them in a shallow gathering basket and got up to look around for more.

Troog shifted position, and made the final series of chops. When he finished, he walked around the tree slowly to check his work. He hadn't missed anything, he was done with this portion of the task. Troog examined the edge of the axe head, pleased that it had sustained no real damage. What a fine tool this was, he thought, never has a chore like this been so quick and easy.

Draag could tell what Troog was thinking about, he had felt the same way when he had chopped around the perimeter of the tree himself. The tools that they had all been given by the Others were the finest any of them had ever owned. He took the axe from Troog, and knelt down next to the tree again.

Troog watched as Draag used the sharp axe to cut through the bark in a thin line, pulling it straight down from the top cut line to the bottom. He didn't chop, he just pressed the sharp edge against the bark and pressed hard as he traced the line over and over. The cut deepened quickly, and by the fifth repetition, he felt the hardness of the solid wood through the layer of bark. Draag went ahead and made two more cuts to be sure, then set the axe aside.

Troog pulled his bone handled flint knife from the sheath on his belt and knelt down next to Draag. Draag pulled his own knife, and together they started cutting the bark free from the trunk of the tree through the tough wood fibers.

It was slow, tedious work. When they had the bark free about a fingers length all the way down, Troog set his knife down and grasped the bark with both hands. He carefully pulled against it, and it started separating from the trunk slowly. Draag leaned in and used his knife to cut clinging wood fibers that held on to the bark as Troog pulled on it.

Together, they worked their way all the way around the tree. They worked together in a slow, deliberate manner. The two men paused and moved around the tree incrementally as they worked. It took a while, but the bark came off in a single, large piece without a single tear.

**********

The net needed a little repair. Rug and Borg worked it over, adding cordage and tying new knots where necessary.

Brug knocked the three fish in the head, and both women went to work cleaning them. Two of the fish were plump with roe.

When the net was finished, the men got together to go back into the river for another round. This was almost too easy, Crag thought, watching Brug hop down into the cold water. The young hunter was excited, and it showed in his body movements. Crag felt a little chill of excitement himself as he stepped down into the water, and felt a little younger for the briefest of moments.

**********

Mog-ur found a serene spot just up from the bank of the river in the shade of a short tree. He sat down and made himself comfortable in the short green grass and relaxed. Mog-ur closed his eyes and began to breathe deeply, and began to clear his mind.

**********

Rug and Troog man handled the oblong shaped, flat, thin river rock between them. Even as thin as it was, it was still rather heavy and cumbersome. It was difficult for them to walk together over the rocky ground covered with patches of green grass. The grass covered and camouflaged some of the stones, and tripping and stepping on them was easy to do. They were almost back to camp, and both men sweat rivers from their efforts in the heat at the end of the day.

Crag and Inca approached them from the south, both heavily laden with dead fall they had just gathered from the edge of the tree line. They continued on back to camp together.

Aba had the fire well stoked, the bright flames reached up as high as a man was tall, and the heat projected out strongly in shimmering waves. She was intent on getting a heavy coal bed built up, and kept the fuel coming every time the fire burned down even a little bit. It was hot, sweaty work, and her wavy hair was streaked with wetness.

Etra set up a tripod with a large hanging skin full of water. It sat well away from the fire in the shade. She dumped two full water bags into it, then walked back down to the river to fill them again. It took five water bags to fill the hanging skin to the level where she wanted it. She then took the long, thick roll of birch bark and lay it into the water to soak, and weighted it down on each end with two flat stones to keep it completely submerged.

Ova and Brug finished up the last two salmon. A little earlier, Brug had volunteered to help, and Ova enjoyed teaching him the finer points of cleaning the large, meaty fish after getting over the initial discomfort of a man doing women's work. Brug was well skilled with his knife, deftly coordinated with his hands, and learned very quickly. She hardly ever had to show him anything twice, though some things took a little practice for him to get just right.

Draag grabbed the next to last carcass and carried it down to the river. He slung it as hard as he could far out into the water, letting the current carry it on downstream. He returned to fetch the last fish to dispose of it the same way.

The hunters had caught a total of seven salmon in three tries, one was almost as long as Brug was tall. Crag had called that one an 'old mother', and she did indeed provide an abundance of bright pink roe. Brug marveled at the size of the stripped carcass, what a big, powerful fish, he thought. This had been his first fishing experience as a Clan hunter, and what a thrill it was. Brug hoped they would fish again tomorrow, that was fun.

**********

Mog-ur took a deep breath and stood up. His legs and back were a little stiff from sitting motionless for as long as he had been in meditation. Mog-ur had meditated the entire afternoon away, exploring old, familiar memories of Clan meetings past and friends and fellow mog-urs he would likely never see again. This thought saddened him, but the familiar memories filled him with the companionship of his peers that he lacked.

He had tried to find specific examples of different Clans that had broken with any of the old traditions, but he found it very difficult to stay concentrated on the idea. The day was just too much of a beautiful distraction for him to be as serious as he needed to be to search his memories in depth for those types of specific things. The shade was cool, the breeze light and pleasantly gusting, and the sounds of the moving waters of the river were entirely too soft and soothing. What a nice, peaceful place this is, he thought.

Mog-ur stretched, leaning over at the waist first to his left side, then to his right. He felt instant relief when his lower back popped a few times, and repeated the action to get a few more. Mog-ur heard a soft rustling in the leaves behind him, and he turned around slowly and lifted the butt of his spear off the ground and turned it with the sharp tip facing in front of him, waist high. His eyes searched for the source of the movement through the trees and the streaks of shade, nothing. Nothing. There.

Three grey wolves—no, another, four. They stood perfectly still now in the shadows of the trees, their coloring blending them into the background and the shade rather well. Three of the wolves were scrunched down, hard to see even knowing where they were. The fourth stood square, standing tall and facing the Mog-ur proudly. He showed no hint of fear.

He was the closest wolf, and stared straight at him, looking directly into his eyes. Mog-ur felt no real fear, he had never been afraid of grey wolves, they were his totem after all. The two wolves well back from the leader started backing off slowly, ever so slowly with barely a sound made.

Mog-ur made a sign, slowly and gracefully directed at the lead wolf. 'Thank you for a lifetime of your wisdom, guidance, and protection.'

The wolf took a sudden step back at the beginning of the movement, then stopped and watched intently until Mog-ur had finished and was still again. The magnificent wolf sat back on his haunches boldly. He cocked his head and opened his mouth, his brilliant white teeth glistening, and let his tongue loll down to the side. The wolf paused for a long, serene moment then lifted his nose up and down in a subtle motion and whined softly. He then held his gaze again, unblinking and confident. He held this pose for a little while, then yipped softly. In a fluid, graceful motion stood and turned away from Mog-ur to trot back into the thick cover of the trees. The remaining wolf followed him, and they were all completely out of sight in a hurry.

Mog-ur watched them go, feeling a wave of warmth envelope inside. What incredibly beautiful, powerful animals, he thought proudly. He made the familiar, 'Walk with Ursus' sign, then turned and started back to camp in no particular hurry, his spirit feeling content, light and free.

**********

Rug and Crag rearranged the border rocks at one end of the fire, they used sticks to move them around and get them placed as the fire still burned high and hot. The glowing coal bed was large and wide, and getting higher. When they had the rocks arranged the way they wanted them, they backed away from the intense heat, sweating. The cool air away from the stifling heat of the fire felt good and they filled their lungs with deep breaths, over and over as they cooled down.

Troog and Borg stood on each side of the flat rock, and waited for Rug and Crag to come over and help. Together the four men carried it over to the fire and set it down on top the arranged rocks. By the time they finished settling the river rock into place, it hung over into the fire pit a little over half way.

The four men looked to Aba and Inca who had stood by and watched them place the stone, Inca nodded gratefully and the men walked back down toward the river. They passed Brug and Ova walking back to camp carrying a hide between them heavy and loaded up with cleaned fish and roe.

When they reached the river, all of them waded out into the cool moving water and cleaned themselves and cooled off. Rug saw a wide smooth stone on the bottom and sat down, the water reached up to the middle of his shoulders. He dipped his head forward and under the surface of the water and turned side to side. He lifted his head out and slung his thick mane of dark wavy hair back, spraying Troog in front of him. Troog looked at him with an unusual, surprised look on his strongly featured face, then reached down and splashed Rug in the face with a sudden swipe of both his powerful hands.

Crag and Borg watched the byplay, then Borg's face was splashed from his left, he had been looking right. He turned and saw Crag in the act of splashing him again, and reached down to return the favor. Rug splashed him from the blind side, and then Troog got him too.

Brug heard the splashing as he approached the river, he wondered what in the world the hunters were doing. What he saw amused him greatly. It was a water fight, and it was the hunters that were seemingly having a lot of fun doing it. How strange, he thought, then doffed his light wrap and hopped in to join them.

Crag and Troog saw him coming out of the corner of their eyes, and as soon as the youngest hunter was in the river and close enough, they started in on him. Water cascaded at Brug from all directions, and he started splashing back, his deep brown eyes glistening with enjoyment. It was truly a melee in the shallows of the river.

Brug splashed back at the older men with all the fervor of youth, for the briefest of moments, he felt at one with the hunters. An equal.

Rug sat calmly in the water watching his hunters enjoying themselves, feeling young again for the first time in a long, long time. For now, the worries and responsibilities of being the leader washed away from him in the gentle current of the cool, refreshing water.

**********

Ova took the bone platter from Aba, it was full of cracked wheat, oats, and chopped up pine nuts. She and Aba walked back over to where Inca was putting the final touches of ground up flavorings on the clean filets of salmon. There was quite a pile of meat, and the platter she had them stacked on was wide and brimming high.

Etra came over with several tools fashioned from wide, palmate antlers. They all met at the flat rock at the far end of the fire. Ova took a long stick and began pushing some of the coals up under the rock. It took a while, but the coals piled up under the rock began to emit shimmering waves of heat that escaped around the front edges of the flat stone.

Ova sprinkled a generous amount of the cracked grains onto the far edge of the stone. When she had it covered with a fine layer, Ova dropped the first slab of salmon on the rock. It sizzled when it touched the stone, and she continued laying out pieces of fish close to each other. Thin wisps of fragrant smoke curled and rose up into the breeze, tantalizing and teasing the women.

Ova used one of the antler tools to scoop up a slab of salmon and look at the bottom side of it to see how done it was. It was browned nicely, and she flipped it over. She went on to the next one.

Mog-ur caught the scent of the cooking fish as he wandered along the rocky bank of the wide river. Without thinking about it he quickened his step toward the delicious aromas, his mouth starting to water.

**********

Rug burped loudly, it was echoed by Crag and Borg in quick succession. The Clan sat around the low fire, bellies full and more than a little content. They were all freshly clean and smelling nice from bathing in the river. Most of them still had wet hair.

The meal had been exquisite and everyone ate more than they probably should have. The crunchy light covering of toasted grains and nuts on the salmon added a unique, distinctly different flavor to the already tasty fish slabs. There was plenty left over, and Brug nibbled a piece he picked up after dropping his empty plate on the stack of platters that needed to be cleaned.

The sun started to slide out of sight through the trees, and the cool breeze increased slightly. It had been a busy, but relaxed day compared to the last several days of travel through the bountiful valley. It was good to relax, even if it was for a short time.

Etra checked the birch bark that she had soaking in the hanging skin, it felt soft enough to work. She walked back to Draag and knelt down in front of him. When he tapped her shoulder, she looked up and signed. 'It is time to treat leg.'

Draag nodded, and got up to follow the medicine woman. Aba followed them over to a log in the shade where Draag sat down. A small pile of supplies lay near the end of the log. She assisted the medicine woman as they took off the wrapped outer skins. The strips were sticky and stiff, and it took a good deal of strength to pull them off as they were wrapped tightly around his muscular leg.

If Draag had any discomfort during all the tugging and pulling, he didn't show it. When they had all the leather strips piled between them, the medicine woman examined the hard clay cast. It had numerous cracks in it, most of them small, but structurally it still looked sound.

Etra studied the hardened mud for a moment, then pulled an old Clan knife from a pouch in her belt. She looked at the wide, flat edge, it was still very sharp. Etra placed the sharp edge of the knife in the widest crack at the center of the calf, Draag watched her every move. When Etra pushed the sharp edge into the crack and pressed it a little deeper, he looked up at the trees out in front of him. Though he would never admit it, it scared him to have such a sharp blade that close to his flesh. He trusted Etra, but he didn't have to watch.

With a controlled twist, the top of the crack grew slightly. Etra took a deep breath and pressed the blade in a little deeper and twisted the heavy flint flake again. The crack opened up again, and the soft, muffled sound of the cast breaking rippled down Draag's calf. He exhaled loudly, then took another deep breath.

Etra pulled the knife down through the widening fissure, and when it got tight she twisted it again. This time the cast cracked open all the way to his ankle.

Draag felt the pressure increase on his leg slightly, then suddenly the leg felt light as the pressure of the cast subsided entirely. He had to look down, his curiosity getting the best of him. Etra grasped the cast at the break, and pulled it apart with her strong hands. It came apart in three large sections.

The wraps of leather around his leg under where the cast was looked dark brown and stiff. They were not only stiff, but they smelled terrible as Etra started unwinding the top strap. The were still sticky and stiff, and it was a laborious process to get the top two layers off.

Etra paused, laying the corkscrew shaped dried leather next to her on the ground between her and Aba.

'This will hurt, do you want something for the pain before I continue?' She signed. Draag nodded his head, shrugging off any pain medicine, what was a little pain to a man?

Etra pulled the strap at his ankle, and when it started coming free, Draag grimaced. The wrap pulled almost all the hair from his leg as it came loose grudgingly. By the time Etra was at the bottom of his knee, Draag almost wished he had taken some of Etra's pain medicine.

Draag looked down at his leg. It was bright pink and almost hairless, embarrassingly so. After getting over the pain and the shock of seeing his leg like this, Draag realized how much better the leg felt. He looked back at the leg, and saw little patches of dried looking skin in clumps and he flexed his ankle. It hurt, but only from the stiffness of an ankle that hadn't been bent in a long time.

'How long will the new cast have to stay on?' He signed, flexing the muscles of his calf.

'Half a moon cycle, then this hunter will be whole again.' Etra signed, seeing the disappointment in his face. Men are so impatient, she thought.

Etra retrieved the birch bark from the hanging basket, while Aba scrubbed down Draag's lower leg with a piece of badger fur. The excess skin came off, and with it the bad smell started to dissipate.

Etra sat down with the dripping curl of bark, and started the process of fitting it to the hunter's leg. She trimmed it to length first with her bone handled flint knife, then got the width established little by little from test fitting it as she went. When she finally had the shape she was looking for, she set it down and Aba helped her wrap the leg with new leather straps, two layers thick.

The birch bark was very flexible from side to side, but pretty stiff top to bottom. Together, she and Aba wrapped it around the leg and got it settled correctly, then Etra held it in place while Aba wrapped leather straps around it to hold it securely. When they finished, Draag marveled at how much lighter it felt than the last one.

'You must not put any weight on the leg until the bark is fully hard.' Etra signed. 'It will be late tomorrow or the following morning before it is ready at the earliest.'

Draag nodded, he liked the feel of the new cast. This will be much easier to walk on, he thought to himself.

'This man is grateful, medicine woman.' He signed, and looked back at their handiwork.

Etra nodded, and she and Aba gathered up the discarded materials to take them away.

**********

Crag and Brug had the second watch duty. Crag sat at the camp fire while Brug made another round, circling the camp going from one perimeter fire to the next. Crag dipped a cup of tea, and nibbled on some cold salmon he pulled from a folded skin. His stomach was still full, but it just tasted so good he couldn't resist.

The moon shone bright through the trees overhead, a bright crescent in a sea of darkness framed with twinkling stars. The breeze came from the southeast, soft and cool. Wolves howled from all around them, some near, but most far away.

Owls hooted and screeched, and nighthawks screamed out in triumph as they caught their meals. A pair of dark, long winged bats dipped down into the firelight of the southern fire in erratic flight again and again, chasing moths and other small flying insects. The mosquitos were out in force tonight, and both guards had multiple bites, mostly on their bare arms and necks.

The tea was exquisite, a mix of alfalfa, raspberry leaf, and very thinly sliced strawberries that were much too tart to eat by themselves. Etra had put this particular mix together, and it tasted better and better as the night wore on. It was a large basket, and still well over half full.

A few songbirds were becoming active in the woods, their soft songs beginning sporadically throughout the depths of the forest. Their early songs signaling in the imminent coming of the dawn.

Brug walked back into the light of the central fire and sat down next to Crag. He dipped himself another cup of the tart and tangy tea. Crag was examining a thin piece of bone that had two of the barbed spear points in progress. Both had a long way to go before they would be cut completely free from the rest of the bone, but the shapes were outlined deeply, and masterfully designed.

Every hunter, even including the Mog-ur had been working on some phase of the new spears when they retired for the evening. Troog and Borg had taken the first watch, and they had taken turns working on this set of bone points. Brug had worked on them as well, between his rounds. Crag handed the bone to Brug, who looked to see which of the two points he wanted to work on next.

A large flock of waterfowl soared past them, the beating of their wings was the only indication that they had gone by in the dark sky. Brug's heart beat a little faster, wondering if Crag would hunt these birds with him when dawn grew nearer. It was still fully dark out, and Brug wondered how they could see to fly at all. He pulled his knife from its scabbard on his belt, and angled the bone into the light to start tracing over the indented shape.

The next time Brug looked up, he saw Crag sitting with his head slightly lowered. By the sound of his even breathing, he figured the older hunter was napping. He got up and set the bone down, and grabbed his spear and walked the outer fires again. Each fire had burned down pretty low, and Brug added fresh sticks to them and got them all burning bright and tall again.

More birdsongs came from the forest, and he was getting a little anxious. If they were going hunting this morning, they would need to wake another hunter to take the rest of the watch, and it needed to be soon. Brug finished up at the third, and last, fire then walked back to the camp fire. Crag was awake again, and he sat down facing him from across the fire.

'Should we hunt for ducks or geese this morning?' He signed, trying not to show how badly he wanted to go.

Crag thought for a little while without answering, it made Brug crazy to wait for his reply, and his impatience did not escape Crag.

'If you wish to go out and hunt, I'll finish the watch by myself.' Crag signed, finally. 'I think I want stay here though, I'm a little tired this morning.'

Brug couldn't believe it, he didn't expect to be allowed to hunt here on his own. Rug had told all members of the Clan to stay in pairs after dark, they had seen too many signs and tracks of bears, wolves, and even a few large cats. Brug nodded, trying not to look too terribly enthused, and looked over to where his barbed spears lay between them off to the side of the fire. They had been used for examples by the other hunters who were working on making spears of their own like them. They all had their cords attached and coiled up at the butts of the spears in a nice, neat arrangement.

'Don't go too far, and stay close to the river. Use the darkness to get into position, but be out of sight well before the sun comes up.' Crag signed. 'Be patient, and let them get close and well within range before you try for them.'

'Yes, "Crag", I will.' Brug replied, then finished off his tea and got up to gather his gear. It didn't take long for him to have his twin scabbards slung across his back, and his favorite throwing spear in his hand. He nodded to Crag, who looked like he might just take another short nap, and walked out toward the southern fire.

Brug disappeared quickly into the darkness. He stopped at the far edge of the firelight and let his eyes get used to the uneven blackness that lay out before him. He breathed lightly, and opened his mouth a little bit to allow him to hear and smell better. He could taste the tangy scent of pine needles, and could actually smell the river water to his right. His eyes came into focus gradually, and he walked slowly and quietly on south.

Another flock of birds went by, and he stopped to listen, hoping he could hear the splashes of them as they lit on the river. He did hear some of them, but they went down a little farther down stream. Brug started walking again, almost silently, picking his way through a patch of scattered brush. He stayed between the brush and the river banks, and listened as closely as he could for any movement anywhere around him.

Out in front of him, he saw the same four bushes that he and Crag had used as a hiding place the day before. Brug decided that he would use the same spot again, the last time had proved fruitful, why not now?

The young hunter settled into the brush, and hunkered down to wait. It took a little time to get his three spears laid out with the cords coiled within easy reach in the dark. He heard the soft cackling of ducks on the water to the southeast coming from south side of the river. The water and the rocky banks had a tendency to reflect the sound in strange ways, and it was hard to ascertain the actual direction of the sounds.

His heart beat faster as he stole a brief glance up at the sky, wondering how long the sun would stay asleep. Waiting was the hardest part of hunting by far, he thought to himself. Brug was much more used to stalking his intended prey, and he wasn't used to the hide and wait ambush method that Crag had said was best to hunt waterfowl. He took another deep breath and tried to calm his rapidly beating heart. And he waited.

Brug stared through the bottom of the brush, the first light of the day was slowly beginning to glisten off the ripples on top of the river. He could make out a few dark shapes moving around on the water, but none of them were close yet. His excitement grew as he could make out more and more shapes as the light slowly increased. He heard wings again, and tried not to move as they soared over him, and he heard the distinct sounds of the birds landing in the water, some of them sounded close.

When Brug lifted his head enough to see through the brush, he gulped. Four ducks were close, close enough for him to see that two of them had bright green heads and the other two were light brown. Moving ever so slowly, he picked up the nearest spear and coil of thin rope. Brug never took his eyes off the ducks. They didn't see him, and he wanted to keep it that way.

They swam and ducked under water, but so far they had developed no rhythm to their movements. No more than two ducks were submerged at the same time. It was getting harder and harder for Brug to be patient, they were moving slowly away from him now, and he liked his chances while they were closer.

Three ducks ducked under water at the same time, and the fourth was looking away from him, it was now or never, he thought. Brug slowly rose up, when he got to eye level at the top of the bush, he slowed watching the lone duck turn slightly toward him. The water split and the three ducks bobbed back onto the surface, Brug stood the rest of the way up and sighted on the nearest green headed duck and let the light spear fly.

The cast was ever so slightly rushed, and he knew the chances of a hit were slim when he let it go. The cord unwound perfectly from his hand. He was right, the spear flew too far, sailing over the top of the duck and splashing softly into the water behind him. The ducks were instantly spooked, and took to the air in short order. The rest of the ducks in his line of sight followed, and Brug was left alone by himself at the bank of the river.

Brug watched the ducks go on downstream, and it looked like some of them didn't go very far. He didn't actually see any of them light, but several of them had their wings set in descent. Brug stepped out from the cover of the brush, and pulled in his errant spear, winding the cord like Crag had shown him as he did. He was a little flustered at himself for missing, but he knew what he had done wrong so it wasn't bothering him as much as it normally would have. The boy was very accurate with his normal throwing spears, but these were new and presented him with a challenge. Brug gathered the rest of his spears and looked back to the woods.

Daylight was creeping in, and Brug moved quickly and quietly back to the edge of the woods. He headed south downstream, staying just out of sight of the water. Brug watched for any good cover close to the banks as he went, and when he thought he had gone far enough south, he slowed to look over the landscape more intently.

There were a few scattered bushes, some pretty close to what looked like the drop off down to the river, but it was hard to be sure. He went on further down the tree line, looking for better cover to sneak up on the river. Up ahead, it started looking better.

When Brug stopped the next time, he heard a strange sound. A heavier, more active sound of moving water. It was hard to tell what it actually was, but he decided to check it out. The brush here was a little thicker, and he thought he could sneak from bush to bush and stay concealed. Brug bent over as low as he could and started for the first bush to the south. It was still fairly easy to move quietly, and the songbirds were out in force now, singing from all directions. Their songs would help to mask any errant sounds he made.

Brug made it to the first bush, and looked through it, the river was still out of sight. He bent down and scampered to the next close bush. From here, he could see the far edge of the river in a few places through the brush, and he even saw a duck in the water. Brug plotted out his next move, and took off. The next cover was a line of three small bushes, thin from being grazed on. He spotted his next objective, and moved on, quiet as a cat.

From here, he could see a rocky drop off at the far edge of the river, it looked to possibly be a small waterfall. Brug was about to move on closer, to the cover of a willow when he heard a strange sound. He froze, and listened. There it was again, a low grunting sound and a loud splash. A few moments later, he heard it again, this time the sound seemed to be a lot closer.

Brug paused, and thought about it for a little bit. He heard the same kind of sounds again, and tried to figure out what it could be. Brug had no luck, he knew he should be able to identify this strange set of sounds, but he couldn't place them. His curiosity was definitely building. He plotted his route to the willow, and ducked down and moved out of the cover of the brush. It was light enough now to prevent any missteps, and he was able to be very quiet as he made his way to the single tree.

The willow limbs were fully leafed out and hung all the way down to the ground all the way around the tree. When he pulled the small, flexible limbs apart to peer inside, he could hear the rushing water of the river well, it was really close now and a lot louder. Brug pulled his throwing spear up and snuck to the far edge of the tree within the cover of the leafy branches. It was a little tricky working his way through the lower branches of the tree quietly, but he managed to get to the other side without making too much noise. He reached out with the point of the spear to pull the branches apart, and froze at the low growl he heard that came from just past the tree to the south that he was in the middle of.

Brug felt the chill bumps spreading all over his body in waves. That was a sound he knew, and their were few animals in Ursus' vast world more unpredictable and dangerous. That was a bear's growl. He took a deep breath, and pulled the limbs apart slowly.

The river seemed to end at a long, rocky crag. Three brown bears stood on all fours on the rocks, two near the far shore and the other right out in front of him to his left. The bears looked down into the water, and stood motionless. Brug watched, fascinated and afraid at the same time. Ducks and geese were all over the surface of the river, well away from the three bears grouped together in small clusters.

A flash of silver popped out of the water in front of the closest bear, and the bear grabbed it in her huge jaws. Brug could hear the crunch of the fish, and watched as the bear slung her head to her left and threw the large fish up onto the banks and out of sight. The bear returned to her position, laying in wait for the next salmon fighting his way up river and over the small waterfall.

Brug forgot all about the ducks and geese, and watched the bears in action.

To the far edge of the crag, a fish jumped up and soared between the two other bears, escaping the trap and going on upstream. The next one wasn't so lucky, and ended up on the far bank in the rocks.

Brug stood crouched down and stayed completely still, watching this magnificent show of cunning and skill. Escape and capture. He jumped when the bear that was farthest away growled, Brug looked in the direction that the bear was turned in time to see a wolverine dragging a salmon away as fast as his short legs could carry him. The bear growled again, but the wolverine kept going, disappearing quickly into the underbrush on the far shore. A fresh wave of goose flesh enveloped the young hunter, it was a really ominous sound.

The sudden sound of a fish hitting the ground just to his left outside the cover of the willow got his attention. The fish flopped a time or two and was still. Brug heard another low pitched growl, and looked back across the river to see another bear with two young cubs tagging along behind her walk out from the brush and toward the far shore. The cubs bounded toward one of the fish laying prone on the rocks, and started a good natured fight over it. They ignored the other fish that littered the area, and ripped this one apart, growling and swiping at each other.

Brug had seen enough, and slowly made his way back through the lower branches of the willow. His healthy fear gave him the ability to move in almost total silence. When he reached the other end of the tree, he peered out through the leafy branches. He didn't see anything, but he kept watch for a little while, not wanting to run head on into another bear.

Taking a deep breath, Brug moved out of the cover of the willow, crouched over and trotting off through the scattered brush. It was all he could do to not look back over his shoulder as he ran, he knew that the safest plan was to put them all behind him. Way behind him. Besides, it would do him no good at all to trip and fall here. He made the tree line without incident, and sped up a little more to get back to camp as quick as he could.

Brug couldn't wait to tell the hunters all he had seen, it was something he would never forget. Ever.


	15. Chapter 13 Part 2

**Chapter Thirteen**

_Ducks, Geese, Salmon, and Bears_

**Part Two**

Darkness seemed to kick in earlier in the midst of the heavy forest, the dark, cool shadows just got heavier and heavier until you simply couldn't see anymore. Dead fall and piles of pine needles that looked like snow drifts barred their way as often as the close growth of the tall, thin, younger trees did. The tall pines were so close together now that it was getting hard to walk in anything that even remotely resembled a straight line. Young, shorter trees grew closely between the huge older trees, their thin trunks reaching skyward to get to whatever sunlight they could get to that filtered through the thick canopy above. Weaving right and left, and constantly having to circle thick clumps of tightly knit trees made it almost impossible to hold any true sense of direction. Getting lost here was almost a given, even for experienced scouts.

Brenan was so turned around that he felt like they were currently heading back toward the last campsite of the main group. He gave up trying to follow the descent of the sun, and with the waning daylight his confusion only grew. The trees were so thick and close together he was starting to feel dizzy. Brenan had never been in a place quite like this before, and he didn't like it at all.

Branag was looking up and ran into Brenan from behind when Brenan slowed to decide which way to go to get past another stand of thin, young tree trunks, over half of them dead. Somehow they had gotten separated just a little bit from Danug and Ludeg.

"Uummph, sorry Brenan." Branag said, grabbing the back of Brenan's tunic as he stumbled forward and looked to be about to lose his balance. Branag pulled Brenan back upright with his powerful left hand.

"Thanks." Brenan said, feeling the dizziness wane a bit. "Where are the others, I can't see them?"

Instead of answering, Branag whistled. From their left a whistle rang out in return. Brenan looked but couldn't see them, it was really getting dark. He started working his way toward the whistle, twisting his body between two close knit trees.

The screech of an owl rang out from directly over them, and both men ducked from the frightening, high pitched sound. The sounds of the deep forest were so different than what either man was used to it was unnerving. Rustling in the treetops seemed almost constant. Mostly squirrels and birds, it was hard to see any more than a fleeting glimpse of the noise makers through heavy branches and pine needles above.

"Alright, I've lost my sense of direction again." Brenan said, exasperated and more than a little frustrated and tired. "Which way now?"

Branag looked around, all he could see were dark vertical shapes reaching up. He whistled again. The return whistle was so close he should have been able to see the other two men, he thought, but he couldn't. Brenan started toward the sound, Branag kept a hand on his shoulder as he followed.

"Over here." Ludeg's voice was soft.

Brenan heard the soft call, and came around a large tree trunk to come face to face with Danug and Ludeg. He felt a relief as such as he hadn't felt in a long time to see those two familiar faces.

"It's really good to see you guys." Brenan muttered, and took a deep breath shaking his head.

"I got so turned around I could have sworn we were walking little circles." Branag said with a big grin, and patted Brenan on the shoulder. "I have never seen anything quite like this."

Ludeg grinned back at him, but it was Danug that spoke up. "I have, but I don't think it was quite this thick, and I didn't like it then much either."

They all chuckled, it was good to be back together. Their smiles faded quickly at the sudden rustling sounds that came from their right, the sounds were close and had to have been made by many feet.

"Now what?" Ludeg muttered under his breath.

"Wolves, pigs, who knows?" Danug said, searching the darkness for the source of the sounds.

The rustling got closer, then veered away just as quickly. They all breathed a little easier again.

"We might as well stop here for the night, there is no way to make any real progress in this." Ludeg said, waving his arm out in front of them. "Let's find a clearing to make camp."

"A clearing, sure." Branag said, grinning. "Right next to a nice clear pond."

The other three men chuckled, they were all as uncomfortable as Brenan was.

It took a little time, but they did come across a small clearing in the middle of several very large, thick pines with thick, wide trunks. It was so thick above them that no sunlight could have penetrated down to ground level and no fledgling trees had survived. They used dead fall to sweep the ground clear of the pungent layer of pine needles.

Danug dug out a small fire pit in the center of the small clearing, there were no stones to be found to ring it with so he dug it down a little deeper than he normally would. He used the excavated dirt to make a small retaining mound around the indention.

Brenan brought over an armload of dead fall, and made a pile. He started breaking up a pile of small twigs from the outer edges of the larger limbs, dropping them into the pit. Danug struck several sparks before the small, tell tale wisp of smoke finally appeared, and he leaned down to gently blow it into a small flame. It popped and sputtered, then began to spread.

Ludeg broke out some cold meat and Branag sharpened several long sticks he chopped off a short tree he found just outside the clearing. The light of the fire allowed them to better see their surroundings, and they all relaxed a little bit, glad to be out of the total darkness. The shadows danced all around them, giving their surroundings a more ominous appearance even than it had been before. None of them were really very comfortable here, and were constantly wary and on edge.

Danug and Brenan made up a wide, soft mound of pine needles for them to bed down on later on one side of the fire. The strong smell of pine permeated everything, even covering the smell of fresh, broken dirt from the fire pit.

Branag passed out the sharpened sticks, each with a piece of fully cooked aurochs meat pierced through the end. They all sat around the fire, and heated their evening meal at the edge of the flames.

It had been four days since they had begun scouting ahead of the main group. The first two days, one of them had returned to the main camp at the end of each day to report what they had seen, which was nothing having to do with the other camp fire in the distance. The scouts were getting closer to the distant threads of smoke, but had actually seen nothing of consequence thus far.

Two days ago, it was decided that the main group would continue on down the ridge line. Knowing that eventually it would take them back to the river, it was deemed more important for the scouts to go on to the southeast and try and find out who was responsible for the other smoke they kept catching glimpses of.

Danug had been the one that had gone back to the main group, and they had loaded him down with food when he went back to join up with the scouts well before dawn. Since then, they had tried to cut through the thick forest in order to search for the other camp.

Traveling as quietly and quickly as they could through the thick forest had proved difficult, they encountered many places like they were in right now. Trees here were so numerous and thick that it was hard to even move through them, and it was so easy to lose all sense of direction. It felt like at times they were simply wandering through the woods, any progress they made wasn't really felt.

They had not been able to see the smoke of the other camp since they had entered the forest, and had no real idea how close they were to them. Earlier in the day, they traveled through a narrow burned out clearing in the trees, and had seen a rise in the ground ahead. So far, they hadn't reached the apex of the hill, but the ground had been rising gradually since mid day.

The warmed over meat was tough, as it always was when you reheated cooked meat, but tasted great. They had not stopped for a mid day meal and were hungry enough that boiled leather would have tasted good. Tired from the day's hard traveling, they would turn in early, half of them anyway. They would take guard duty in pairs to insure no one dozed off. Brenan and Ludeg took the first watch while Branag and Danug bedded down. Danug's snoring was heard shortly after his head was down on the soft bed of pine needles.

"I don't know why we need to stay up to guard the camp." Branag said, sitting up. "Danug sounds like a growling bear, nothing but another bear would venture into this camp."

Ludeg and Brenan had a good laugh, and Ludeg reached out and put a few more sticks on the fire. They would not patrol the area around the clearing, in such tight quarters, it was best to simply listen for intruders and pay attention.

When Branag fell asleep, the real competition began. Who could snore the loudest? It was a very, very close race. Currently, Danug had a slight edge.

The night sounds continued. Rustling in the pine needles, both on the ground and even a little bit in the trees above. It was unnerving, but as long as nothing got too close, they considered themselves safe enough. Both men kept their spears close, and their ears and eyes open.

**********

Branag and Danug did their best to establish direction from the first signs of the dawn. Through the high forest, it was a guess at best. As soon as it was light enough, they started out, traversing the rise on a slight angle to what they thought was a southeasterly track.

The going was hard for the first few hours, weaving through the trees and the small breaks between them. The angle of ascent increased gradually, and as it did the trees slowly thinned. The ground got rockier, little by little. By late morning, they finally reached the apex of the hill. Here, it looked as though the soil was too rocky to support as many of the smaller trees, only the monster sized, mother trees thrived.

"See anything?" Danug asked as all four men stared down into the slight valley.

No one said anything, but kept their eyes peeled on the treetops. The forest was thinner below, but not by too much. They could see small breaks in the trees, especially to the south and southwest. There was also a wide creek that they saw glimpses of down below, clearing the tree cover in several places. A band of horses or onagers were spotted watering at the creek to the southwest, through a break in the trees. They were too far away to distinguish between the similar looking animals.

"Is that the river?" Branag asked, pointing to a very small patch of blue in the middle of a sea of green and brown far to the south.

"Maybe." Ludeg answered, staring at the bright reflection.

"Could be this creek, it is flowing that direction." Brenan offered.

"What's that?" Danug asked, pointing to the south, slightly farther to the east from what they thought might be the river.

The other three men focused back to where he pointed. After a little bit, a thin wisp of smoke rose up through the treetops.

"I see it." Brenan said.

"Me too," Branag began. "Well, lets go boys."

**********

The sun was hot, having been mostly in the shade for the last several days, they were all sweating rivers as they made their way down the slope. The trees were much thinner and more spread out, more so as they went, and they made really good time for the first time in days.

The pines finally thinned out a little bit, and conifer and fir grew in amongst them as the hill started to gradually flatten out. The brush increased through the slightly thinning forest, clumping up in the breaks between the heavier, taller trees. Spots of new growth, short young trees with bright green tops popped up as well in many places where the ground was a little less rocky.

Animal tracks and dung increased throughout the morning, though few animals themselves were actually seen. Mostly from deer and antelope, a few wolf and cat signs were also seen. Line of sight was still, more often than not, rather limited.

A scattered skeleton of a large deer of some kind at the edge of a patch of low brush surprised them as they cleared the patch. Large pieces of fur and the remains of the antlered head littered a wide expanse of the clearing. Wolf tracks were everywhere, it made them a little uneasy at the sight of the recent carnage, even though it appeared to be several days old.

**********

They reached the shaded banks of the wide creek around mid day. The water was clear and inviting, and not too deep to wade through. The smooth rocky bottom presenting them with no real problem in crossing. The cool water was only waist high at the deepest point. When they got to the other side, they all bathed using a little sand from the bottom to wash their hair with before putting their clothes back on. Refreshed, they moved on toward the recurring finger of smoke. It was much closer now, and they kept a really close eye on their surroundings as they moved on.

Ludeg led them around a wide patch of brush, slowly and carefully. The smoke from the mysterious camp fire was close enough to smell now every now and then on the soft, gusting breeze. The occasional whiffs of the delicate aroma of cooking fish made their mouths water. They had not had a freshly cooked hot meal in days. Ludeg paused at the edge of the brush, watching his surroundings and searching for any signs of movement. He froze, and pulled his spear hand up to his side to stop the others behind him.

There it was, movement through the trees and brush between them and whoever it was at the camp. Ludeg slowly slipped past the edge of the brush, and carefully moved to the cover of a pair of short firs to his right. The others followed him, spaced out in a loose, slow moving line.

Ludeg peered around the leafy center of the tree to the right side. He could see the edge of the base of the camp fire, and surprisingly, a body of water a little bit beyond it. A lake maybe, or did the wide creek turn this way again, he wondered. He kept his eyes peeled, Branag sided up next to him, parting some of the lower branches to look through them.

Branag exhaled loudly, and pointed toward the fire as a young woman walked into a clear place they could see between the scattered cover. She walked up to the fire, and a man joined her to help her tend the cooking fish.

As they watched, three men and a woman walked up from the direction of the water. They carried two large silver salmon between them, the fish both showed spear wounds on their shiny bodies. They disappeared for a moment, then reappeared closer to the fire.

They watched for a moment longer, then backed off behind the cover of the trees, joining Brenan and Danug. They hunkered down in the shade, facing each other.

"Well, they're not Clan..." Ludeg began, clearly disappointed.

**********

Vincavec was leading the group when he stopped, looking down the side of the ridge to the southwest. He had to squint into the bright light of the afternoon sun, sweat dripped off his forehead and into his eyes. He wiped his face with a small skin he kept tucked into his belt, and looked again.

A herd of horses grazed at the edge of a wide grassy clearing that ran through the trees. He also saw what appeared to be several aurochs a little way past the horses, grazing in some scattered brush. There was also a small creek a little off to his right that disappeared into the trees.

He held up his hand, stopping the long progression of the traveling band. Tulie and Matera came up to him, along with Wymez and Rymar. Talut dropped the sledge handles, and walked toward them as well, wiping sweat off his face with a rag of his own.

Vincavec pointed out the grazing animals down below, and they all stared at the obstacles between them and a fresh supply of meat. It had been a few days since they had last had fresh meat, while game was plentiful, hunting in the woods was not very familiar to them. Talut had led a few hunting forays over the last few days, but with very disappointing results. It seemed like Frebec and Mortan were the only ones who had the knack, but they had only brought back small animals.

"I can taste those aurochs steaks, we have to try for them." Talut said, licking his lips.

"I can too, but it will mean stopping here for a day or two." Tulie chimed in, hungry for a hot meal herself.

Vincavec thought about stopping, and what it would do to hinder their plans of meeting up with the scouts at the river ahead. His hunger may have affected his ultimate decision.

"Let's hunt." He said, grinning up at Talut, then looked to Rymar and Wymez. "Give us a good plan to catch out supper."

Rymar grinned, and Wymez laughed aloud.

"I think a two fold ambush is in order." Rymar began, studying the layout down below. "With a well placed distraction to chase them into it..."

**********

"So now what do we do?" Danug asked, his voice just above a whisper while looking at the other three men huddled down behind the cover and in the shade of the small trees. "How do we find out who they are? Talut and Vincavec said we shouldn't make any direct contact and give away who we are."

It got quiet, the leaves rustled next to them in a soft gust of the cool breeze. They just looked at each other, searching for an answer in the confused faces before them. The leaves rustled again, softer this time.

Brenan grinned. "That's easy, haven't you ever seen a man on a journey?"

Danug grinned too, then chuckled under his breath. Why didn't I think of that, he wondered.

"I know a little Sungea, we could pretend to be Sungea travelers." Brenan added.

"You really look like a Sungea, with your Mamutoi clothes and back pack." Branag said with a grin. "Wouldn't it be easier to be a Mamutoi man on a journey?"

The men all chuckled, Brenan's face got a little red at the gentle poke. It quieted back down quickly.

"All right, so that's one possibility." Ludeg began. "Any other ideas?"

"Sure, but none as good as that one I look like a Sungea too, I'll go with Brenan." Branag whispered. Grinning at Brenan whose face was still a little red from embarrassment. "Let's get back into the cover and figure out a plan."

Ludeg nodded, then peered back around the tree for a last look at the camp. Nothing seemed amiss, and he led them back through the brush away from the camp. They stayed low, bent over at the waist until they put some distance between them and the camp. Veering around a wide patch of tall brush they stopped.

"Who gets to be the lone traveler?" Branag asked as he sat down in the shade.

"I'll go, I've had plenty of practice lately." Danug volunteered.

"I have too." Branag added.

"Look, we've all put some serious ground behind us." Ludeg said, looking up at Danug directly. "But I believe I have the most experience in dealing with strangers, having been a designated Mamutoi runner for so long. Why don't I go, and the rest of you can meet up with me down the creek tomorrow some time. You need to stay far enough down stream to be sure to be completely out of sight."

The other three men thought about what all Ludeg said, he was probably right, and they all knew it. There was always an element of danger when meeting up with strangers though, and none of them were totally comfortable with the idea of Ludeg going in alone.

"Ludeg, why don't I go with you?" Brenan asked. "Two men traveling together on a journey is not so unusual."

"I like that better, it would be safer." Branag said.

"It does seem smarter that way." Danug chimed in. "But let me go with you, if they're hostile they will be less apt to mess with us."

"Danug's got a point, I wouldn't want to fool around with anyone his size either." Branag said, Danug had grown up and filled out considerably in the last two years, he was as tall as Talut now, though not quite as broad or heavy yet.

Ludeg watched them, looking for any further objection. "Good. Danug, let's get ready. We'll meet the rest of you down stream. Stay on the far side of the creek, and no fires—got it?"

They all grinned, of course there could be no fire tonight.

"We'll stay here until after dark, and keep an eye on you." Branag said. "Come out to the fire and give us a signal if everything is alright with you staying the night with them. We'll move on then."

"All right, do it your way." Ludeg said, grinning and liking the fact that his friends would be watching his back.

"Good idea, let's go Ludeg." Danug said, and stood up and settled his back pack back to the center of his back. "I'll give you a Clan signal if we are made welcome to spend the night, so keep an eye on their camp fire."

**********

A dark haired woman, or was it a girl? It was difficult to judge her size this far away, but she appeared to be rather small. Small and very petite. Ludeg squinted his eyes against the brightness of the falling sun, trying to see her better through the glare. They approached the camp from the north, and could see the tops of three tents and a little of the camp fire between the brush and small trees as they got closer.

She had long, straight black hair that swayed across her bare back as she worked. She faced away from them near the fire on a long pole with a many sharpened shorter sticks tied to the end of it, splaying outward. On almost all of the protruding points, a slab of fish was speared. She was naked from the waist up, and had only a small wolf skin tied around her dainty waist. She has to be a girl, Ludeg thought as they got a little closer, she's just too small to be a woman.

Danug watched her from the corner of his eye also, but he was paying more attention in the area of the tents. He had seen no other movement thus far, but he expected it any time now. With three tents that he could see at least parts of he knew there had to be more people around. Somewhere. Danug found that he was suddenly nervous, a sensation he hadn't felt in a really long time.

The two of them lost sight of the female as they passed between several short willows that grew close to a larger stand of short firs to their left. The ground here was a little less rocky than it had been and was mostly covered with a thin layer of bright green grass and knee high weeds. Some of the weeds were covered with sharp needles and had white flowers with orange centers at their spiny tops. Even the underside of the leaves of these odd looking plants had needles projecting past the sharp, pointed edges.

When they came around the far side of the pair of young willows, they found themselves suddenly face to face with six dark haired, short men in a semi circle brandishing spears with long, sharp carved bone points. The six men didn't look very happy to see them, in fact, they looked down right angry. Though short, they were as muscular and as solidly built as any other healthy men would be that were of more normal size and stature.

Ludeg stopped immediately, then slowly set the point of his spear to the ground beside him and let the shaft rest against his side. Beside him Danug did much the same thing before both men held out both hands in front of them, palms up. Their sign of welcome was not returned, and an uneasy stand off began.

None of the six strangers made any movement at all, friendly or hostile. The look on their faces was stern, but that was not the most unusual aspect of this confrontation. It was the distinctly foreign look of their faces. Their eyes were deep brown and slightly slanted, with fair yellowish skin and almost hairless chests, arms, and legs.

They were dressed with simple skins tied around their waists just as the woman they had seen before had worn. Two of the men wore the fur of the cave lion, three had on the fur of the snow leopard, and the last, the one in the center, had on the skin of an albino cat of some kind. This fur was as brilliantly white as newly fallen snow.

"We are on a journey." Ludeg said, trying not to stare at any one man too long while he looked to figure out which one of them was their leader. His eyes were drawn back to the man in the center with the white wrap.

The man with the albino skin stepped forward, holding his spear forcefully across his chest. He let loose a string of words that held no meaning for either Ludeg or Danug. Something was strange in the way he spoke though, it almost sounded musical. Both men lowered their arms, and grasped their spears lightly in as non threatening way as possible given the situation.

Danug spoke in the language of the Sungea. "We are on a journey, we mean you no harm."

The short man answered him with more unintelligible words. This time his voice was gruff, short, and even a little harsh. He looked perturbed and held his spear out and jerked the pointed tip of it back in the direction that Ludeg and Danug had just come, and spoke again. The short man paused, then said another single word, repeating the motion he had made with his spear. He was a little more forceful this time, and his deep brown eyes glistened with anger. His meaning was obvious.

"Not very welcoming, are they?" Danug said under his breath. He took a tentative step forward, and instantly all five of the men behind the leader raised their spears the rest of the way up and into ready throwing positions. Danug stopped in his tracks. He tried to keep his face impassive, showing no fear. This didn't seem to pacify them at all, if anything, they grew more tense and agitated.

"Back off, Danug. Do it slowly." Ludeg said softly. "Let's let them have this place."

Danug did as he was asked, and when the two of them were three or four steps back the dark haired men lowered their spears, but just a little. The leader motioned again with his spear and spoke the same word he had used before, gruffly and with insistence.

"Well, it was nice to meet you." Danug said as they walked backward slowly. "Sorry we don't have the time to share a hot meal with you, maybe next time."

Ludeg grinned and had a hard time suppressing his need to laugh out loud, it wasn't easy.

When they were about twenty paces away from the inhospitable strangers, they turned their backs to them and headed back through the brush. They sped up and trotted away to the north, and slowed at the edge of the heavy brush at the tree line.

Danug looked back over his shoulder, they had moved out into the open near the willows. The strangers still watched, and waited patiently. Danug and Ludeg continued northerly, trying to put the most tree and brush between them as they could, they wanted to get out of their line of sight as quickly as possible. Neither liked having their backs to the short, hostile men.

What a strange experience that was, Danug thought, memories of his own journey coming into his mind. Bad memories, and a wave of chills covered him as he tried to push the thoughts back out of his head.

**********

Frebec, Druwez, and Mortan kept low and moved slowly through the low brush. They had grass and the small branches of a bush stuck into their clothing, camouflaging and softening the hard shapes of their bodies. Their faces were smeared with mud and they were all heavily armed.

Frebec slowed at the end of the last bush in the scattered line that extended out into the open field of grass at the end of the trees and the short drop off, and dropped to one knee in the shade. The land dropped off in a short but rather steep slope for a half dozen paces before flattening out in the narrow green meadow on the other side of the brush.

He peered past the dense leaves, they were close to the aurochs now, closer than he would have guessed. They couldn't be more than twenty steps away from the closest of them, scattered in a loose group, grazing peacefully. He stuck a dusty finger into his mouth and stuck it up into the breeze to check the direction of the wind, it was still in their favor—but just barely. Any change or variation would put their scent into the path of the aurochs. Frebec took a deep breath and considered their next move.

Mortan reached over to touch Frebec's shoulder, when Frebec looked back at the boy, Mortan signed. 'Listen.' The three of them all got still and quiet.

Druwez heard it too, the low, soft sound of crunching, then a low snort. The sound was intermittent, but close. Very close. He signed, 'What is that?'

Frebec had an idea, but wasn't sure. He made a motion for his two young companions to stay low and quiet. Frebec dropped down to all fours and crawled into the bush, reaching out to part some of the lower limbs and try to look through them. He saw the feet of an aurochs just past the bush, then the head of a yearling bull dropped to the top of the grass and he bit down on a green clump and bit it off. The head raised up and out of sight. The bull was no more than three or four steps past the bush the men hid behind.

Decide, Frebec thought to himself, the ambush should be in place by now. He pulled back from the cover of the inner branches of the bush. Frebec looked up into the faces of his two young hunters and nodded.

Druwez pulled three pieces of skins from his waist where he had them stuck into his belt, they were dyed bright red, and handed two of them to the others. There were thin straps tied through small holes pierced at on end of the skins, and the three of them tied the straps around the shafts of their long throwing spears at the business end.

Frebec leaned forward, and the two young hunters leaned toward his face, then he whispered softly. "There is a young bull right below us, if he turns to charge at us Druwez, you must take him down with your spear thrower. Be accurate, young man."

Druwez nodded, then pulled a pair of short spears from the scabbard on his back and his spear thrower from a pocket at the center of the scabbard. He dropped a spear into the notch, holding the other small spear against the shaft of his throwing spear.

Frebec waited until he was ready, then grinned. "Watch your backs." He whispered, then stood up in a lurch, waving his spear. The red leather flapped and popped in the air, and Frebec ran around the end of the bush and down the slope, Druwez and Mortan following behind. All three of them whooping and hollering.

The young bull jumped sideways, looked up at the humans who had appeared so suddenly beside him, and snorted loudly before taking off in a dead run. His heavy hoof beats and the sounds of the men's voices alerted the rest of the small herd. Mostly females, their were several calves amongst them and they all ran to the northeast through the narrow band of grass.

Frebec led the chase, but the more fleet footed Druwez soon overtook him. Mortan pulled up between the older men, and together they ran in a loose line through the grass. Waving their spears and the fluttering skins tied to the ends of them, they charged on as fast as Frebec could run. The aurochs out distanced them quickly, and the speed of the chase fell off a little to a loping run.

**********

Talut heard the thudding, and whistled softly. He looked around, everyone on this side of the thin meadow was in place, hunkered down and concealed. He grasped his huge throwing spear, and got a firm grip on the other four long, heavy spears in his left hand. He was ready, and he felt the adrenalin begin to surge through his huge, powerful body.

Across the grassy strip, Vincavec saw the aurochs coming. His hunters were ready, and already picking out potential targets. He looked back to the north, and raised his hand. Salen, Thorec, and Jozen were crouched down beneath a low slung willow watching him.

Vincavec looked back to the aurochs, hooves pounding, and waited. He looked back at Salen, and dropped his hand quickly. Salen and the other two broke from the cover of the willow and charged out into the open grass, spears on high, making a stand as blockers.

The lead bull saw the humans, and quickly veered to the west to try and run past them, and when he approached the edge of the brush was hit by two spears in rapid succession. He bellowed loudly, and lowered his head and tried to veer away from the brush. Two more spears flew harmlessly past him, thudding into the ground. The rest of the aurochs following him saw him stumble and split into two groups, one headed straight on toward the center of the field, the other a little more easterly.

In an instant, their were hunters everywhere. The aurochs scattered even more, trying to get out of the well laid trap. It was pandemonium in the narrow field of grass, and two of the cows ran right at the three hunters out in the center. They were hit head on with a wave of well thrown spears, and then another.

Calves bawled, cows snorted, and the young bull fell hard onto his side. Hooves pounded, and dust rose into the air and was carried northeasterly on the light breeze.

Spears flew through the air from three directions. Many of the cows and their young were hit, some worse than others. Two calves toppled in the grass, and another three cows were seriously impeded and stumbling. The assault continued.

**********

Frebec slowed, he was badly winded. Druwez and Mortan saw him and slowed as well. The aurochs were long gone now anyway, and they heard bits of the bawling and bellowing in the distance past the gentle bend of brush and trees out in front of them. They trotted on, and cut their path a little more to the north to clear the obstruction.

When they got closer to the edge of the heavier cover, a loud snort was heard from the opposite side of the clearing. It was followed by a pain laced whinney, high pitched and desperate sounding.

Druwez looked over to Frebec who was red in the face and obviously tired. They slowed to a stop, Frebec leaned over and put his hands on his knees, gasping and breathing deep.

"Can we go check it out?" Mortan asked excitedly.

"The sound was close, we'll be in sight." Druwez added quickly.

Frebec looked up, then straightened up and motioned for them to go on ahead of him. The boys took off in a dead run, and Frebec took another deep breath.

"Be careful!" He yelled as loud as he could with his limited wind. Frebec started after them, in a fast, jerky walk. His breath was ragged and forced, his legs were on fire from the hard run. This is a young man's game, he thought to himself, envying their youth and endless stamina. He sucked in another deep breath, and trotted slowly after them.

**********

Mortan and Druwez slowed to a fast walk as they approached the low brush at the far edge of the clearing. Both of them pulled the remnants of grass and small branches that were left from their camouflage out of their clothing, dropping it as they walked. They lifted their spear throwers up in a relaxed, but ready position when they reached the edge of the line of brush and trees. There it was, that strange sound again. Though closer now, it was a softer this time. A soft, pained whinney, then some low grunting noises.

Druwez stopped and looked into the scattered brush and short trees. It was easy to see through the ground cover in some places, but others were thick and hard to see through at all. Mortan walked a little further around a low bush, peering between the gaps. They walked into the edge of the cover slowly and cautiously, watching and listening around them for any sign of movement.

Mortan jumped back when a pair of blue quail suddenly exploded into flight on the far side of the wide bush right in front of him. They seemed to have taken flight from just under his feet. Their wings created quite a din as the fat birds took flight, and they flew off into the cover to the south and disappeared out of sight quickly. Druwez laughed softly, seeing the wide eyed, startled expression on the younger boy's face. Mortan grinned, his face a little red, and getting redder.

They heard the odd sound again, and a brief rustling in the leaves. It came from their left out in front of them near a trio of trees, two alders and a wide willow along with a few low, heavily leafed bushes. Druwez veered toward the sound, Mortan siding up to him. They proceeded warily, weapons ready.

The wide willow was closest of the trees to them, and they walked toward it slowly and as quietly as they could through the grass and abundant dry leaves scattered on the ground all around them. The soft crunches from their foot falls sounded terribly loud to the boys, but in reality were hardly discernable over the rustling of the leaves in the trees.

Druwez saw something just past the low slung, drooping branches of the willow, a tan colored shape on the ground in the tall green grass. No, there were two shapes, one much larger than the other—but they were close together. Very close together.

They both froze hearing another low pitched grunting sound, almost like a moan or a growl . Then another, much softer and very weak whinney.

Mortan saw a slow movement and raised his spear thrower and aimed at the shape. He took another tentative step, and saw what looked like a miniature horse head shaking as it rose up. Druwez saw it too, and then it ducked back down and disappeared almost completely out of sight. The young hunters moved forward another few steps.

The scene slowly became visible before them. It was almost surreal, like out of some odd, twisted dream. A tan colored mare lay on her side with blood seeping from her mouth and her flared nostrils, her front legs writhing in slow motion like she was running. At her haunch surrounded by a wide, dark colored pool of blood, the head and shoulders of a baby horse protruded from her. Bloody and covered with a translucent sack like material, the colt struggled feebly trying to free himself from the tight grip of his mother.

Both boys stood transfixed, taking in this incredible scene with wide eyes. A soft, high pitched whinney drew their eyes to the ground between the mare's feet. Another newborn colt crawled toward her mother on her knees, every movement was awkward and labored. A trail of blood and mucous followed her, she looked so incredibly tiny and weak and her small body trembled as she moved.

The mare grunted again and her entire body flexed and shook, the colt still inside her moved just a little bit farther out of the rear of her body. She whinneyed again, almost like a crying gasp, and her head dropped roughly to the ground, her nostrils flared wide and her breath was labored and erratic.

"She's done for." Druwez said softly, watching the mare gasp for every breath, but she grew weaker and weaker before their eyes.

"This is so sad, what happens now?" Mortan asked, watching the baby horse stop trying to crawl and lay her head down in the grass, exhausted. She was so incredibly small and frail.

"Go get Frebec, maybe there is something we can do." Druwez said, unable to take his eyes off the sad scene, but not knowing what he could do to help.

Mortan nodded, and took one last, long look at the dying mare, it tugged on his heart to see her like this. He turned and trotted out of the edge of the brush, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

Druwez walked over to the mare slowly, and set his spear thrower down to the ground as he knelt beside her. She breathed in a deep, raspy sounding, bubbling breath and shuddered. Her frightened eyes stared at him for a moment, then glazed over and she was still. Druwez studied the colt's predicament, and knew he had to do something.

The colt started wriggling, and looked to be choking. Druwez grasped the tiny horse at the shoulders, he took a deep breath then pulled. The horse's front legs popped free, long and gangly and flaying around clumsily. Druwez got a better grip and pulled again. The horse popped the rest of the way out, a fat, fleshy cord pulsed from the middle of his belly.

The baby started chewing at the translucent membrane covering his face, and struggled trying to get his teeth on it. Druwez saw what he was trying to do, and reached down and got a grip on the slimy bag and ripped it apart. The colt breathed in deeply, and made a choking sound. He coughed up a wad of phlegm, then did it again, gasping for breath. His trouble breathing finally eased a bit, and Druwez took a deep breath himself, he hadn't realized he had been holding it.

"Over here."

Druwez heard Mortan's voice, it was close. He peeled the slimy membrane away from the face of the horse, and looked into his deep brown, frightened eyes. Druwez jerked when something wet and soft touched his right elbow. He looked over to see the other baby horse nosing him, still prone on the ground but writhing over to him slowly.

"What in Mut's great earth?" Frebec said, taking in the incredible scene. He dropped his spears and helped Druwez pull the rest of the slimy membrane off the neck of the pony.

Mortan knelt beside the filly, and stroked her slimy, wet head gently, she was covered with the same wet bag from her shoulders down though it was in shreds. She looked up at him, her head trembling with the effort of holding her head up. She turned, trying to get her mouth at his fingers. Mortan allowed her to take his fingers into her mouth, and was surprised when she started sucking on them gently, her little nostrils flaring as she breathed.

Frebec and Druwez pulled the last of the slime from the colt, and Frebec cut the umbilical cord with his knife and tied it off. Druwez opened a pouch on his belt, and pulled out a de-haired rabbit skin, then wet it with water from his water bag he pulled off his shoulder. He washed off the colt's face, clearing the bloody slime from his eyes and nostrils first.

Mortan saw what he was doing, and cleaned the mare's face in much the same way. She licked at his hands and the wet rag, making him giggle as he worked to get her face all cleaned off. The mare bit down on the corner of the wet rag and started sucking on it. Mortan stopped what he was doing and allowed it and he watched curiously, a huge smile on his face. The huge, expressive eyes of the little mare enchanting him.

Frebec came over to them and cut the cord off the mare as well, tying it off with a thin strap of leather. He smiled at Mortan, and reached out to stroke the baby's face gently, her ears laid back as he did. Frebec smiled broadly, he couldn't help it, they were both so adorable. Now what, he wondered.

"Are all baby horses this small?" Mortan asked.

Druwez looked up at Frebec, anxiously waiting for his reply. Ever since they had stumbled onto this strange scene, his thoughts had already strayed to riding one of them one day. Ayla had once taken him riding on her horse, Whinney, and it was something he would never, ever forget. What an incredible thrill it had been, he remembered the speed and power of the docile animal between his legs and it gave him goose bumps just to think about it. The memories of Ayla and Jondalar streaking across the plains on the backs of the horses excited him to no end, and he had always pictured himself doing the same thing one day.

Frebec didn't answer right away, he had been wondering much the same thing. He thought back to all the stories that Ayla had told about her horses. If he remembered it all correctly, she had said that Racer had been able to walk soon after being born. Frebec pondered this for a moment, wondering if Ayla had been exaggerating at the time, then it dawned on him all of the sudden—twins! Twins! That must be it, twin babies were always smaller, weaker, and less developed in humans, why wouldn't it be the same for horses? Horses usually only had one baby at a time, didn't they? Surely that had to be it, didn't it?

"No, I don't think most baby horses are this small. It must be because they are twins."

Druwez smiled, Mortan did too. Both boys looked at the horses again, they were so very tiny.

Frebec leaned over and placed his hands around the chest of the male, and gently pulled him up. His gangly, thin legs pulled up under him and his hooves pushed at the ground. Frebec slowly let the little horse's weight down a little bit, but his legs wobbled and then slid out from under him as the weight of his body settled on them. He pulled him back up, and then tried again getting the same result.

That answers that, he thought, lowering the baby back to the ground gently. He looked at the two babies, the female was slightly larger than the male, it gave him another thought.

Frebec moved over to the tiny mare and tried doing the same thing with her. When he let her weight down, she stood briefly, her knobby knees wobbling and trembling under the strain. Then her front legs went out from under her, and Frebec let her back down slowly. She got her legs back under her and laid down, peacefully looking up at him, her big eyes sparkling with feeling.

All right, Frebec thought to himself, that won't work. I guess there is only one way to get them back to camp, I bet this will raise a few eyebrows, he thought. Frebec grinned again, picturing the three of them, or, he thought again, the five of them returning to camp. What have I got us all into now, he wondered.

**********

Talut reached down and pulled apart the rib cage of the young bull, the bones popped and crunched as the chest cavity widened. He was bare to the waist, and sweating profusely, it wasn't the first aurochs he had helped break open and clean.

Stolie grinned at Talut, his face was bloody and the sweat that poured off him ran in bright red rivulets into his blood spotted beard. He stood up and moved aside, and Stolie and Jozen moved in to start cutting the front legs free. Talut was bloody from the waist up, his body smeared in red streaks, matting in the pelt of hair that covered him.

The narrow meadow was awash with activity. The hunters were everywhere, ganged up on the fallen animals in groups. Six aurochs had been slain, two of them were tender young calves.

Tulie led a party of three trailing another wounded animal that had gotten past them, the trail of blood was sporadic, but easy to follow. It shouldn't take long to find her, wounded as badly as she seemed to be.

Vultures already circled above the clearing, and a few had perched in the tops of some of the taller trees at the edge of the clearing. The yipping and cackling of hyenas could be heard from somewhere deeper into the woods to the west, but so far had they had stayed out of sight in the thick cover. A single lynx sat on the edge of the eastern line of trees just out in the open in the shade, watching their every move, and waiting.

The late afternoon sun beat down on them without mercy, hot and bright. A light, gusting wind blew through the narrow clearing, but it wasn't strong enough to give much relief from the stifling heat. Rippling heat waves rose up from the ground, distorting their vision in a strange, almost magical way.

Tulie and her band of hunters found the wounded cow, she hadn't made it into the woods very far at all. She was dead, with the front half her body covered by the wide patch of brush she had tried to run through. Two red fox were working on her neck and face as the hunters approached, but they disappeared quickly into the brush at the first sounds of the interruption of their arrival.

Thorec and Salen dragged her out of the brush by her hind legs. She was full grown and heavy and it was a real task to get her into the clear. Tulie and Regan helped them to skin her out, and they butchered the cow into six large pieces where she lay. They lay the hide out on the ground and used it to lay out the smaller pieces of the cow out on, including the stomach, tongue, and liver. It was hot, muggy, and very bloody work, but with four of them working on it constantly it went pretty quickly.

A fox yipped from the far side of the wide patch of brush. Jays screamed at them from the trees and a huge hawk watched them from the top of a tall, thin alder. Leaves rustled all around them, though the cause couldn't be seen through the heavy cover.

**********

Talut, Jozen, Stolie, and several others saw Tulie and company come out of the tree line, and rushed over to help. They had the hide of the cow draped between them by four corners, the pile of bloody meat was piled in the center. It was so heavy that it dragged the ground between them.

When help arrived, they doubled up on the corners of the hide, and carried it back over to the other piles of meat in the center of the clearing. There was so much that it was going to be a long, hard walk back up the ridge to the camp, even with so many people available to help.

"Has Frebec and the boys made it back yet?" Tulie asked, setting her end of the heavy hide onto the ground a little roughly.

Talut's eyes suddenly got wide, in all the hectic activity, he hadn't thought about the chasers. He felt suddenly felt like a bad leader, and it showed in his red, blood streaked face.

"No, but I'll go back after them right now." He said, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his blood smeared forearm. His arm left a wide, bloody stain across his forehead and face.

"What is that?" Wymez' question got everyone's attention immediately.

They all looked to the south where the narrow clearing was bordered by the edge of the woods on the western side. What they saw got their attention all at once.

Frebec, Druwez, and Mortan walked slowly toward them, the two boys each carried something in their arms. Something odd looking, but from the distance that separated them it was not yet discernible.

Smiles broke out throughout the thin meadow, both from relief that the chasers were safe and on their way back, and of the odd sight of their burden. As they slowly got closer, the smiles all got bigger.

**********

Branag and Brenan were both chuckling, listening to the story that Danug was telling with Ludeg laughing and grinning sitting next to him. They all sat in the cool shade of the trees, well back from the edge of the clearing.

"...and they looked like they would have gone on and speared us if we had taken just one more step." Danug chuckled at the thought of the small, muscular men they had just encountered.

"We weren't very welcome, they made that plain enough." Ludeg chimed in. "They sure looked odd though, definitely foreign. They had almost no body hair, no beards, and they were all so short."

"And their language, I have never heard anything like it. It sounded like they were almost singing instead of talking." Danug added. "Their hair was so black it was shining in the sunlight. I wish we could have gotten a closer look at one of their women, though, I would have liked to have seen what they looked like up close."

Ludeg laughed harder, then spoke through his laughter in gasps. "Danug, we have got to find you a woman!"

This cracked them all up, and they laughed until tears ran from their eyes. Ludeg reached over and whacked Danug on his broad shoulder. Danug's face was almost as red as his hair.

When their hilarity had finally worn down, they tried to get serious again. It was a real effort.

"We need to get back, I don't think we have much to worry about with these folks. If the raiders from the northern camps find them they won't learn much. They'll probably get stuck by those long pointed spears!" Ludeg said, trying to keep the grin off his face.

Branag laughed again. "Danug, are you sure you don't want to go kidnap yourself a mate before we go?"

They all broke into laughter again.

**********

The crowd that developed around the two boys, Frebec, and the twin newborn horses was total. Every hunter in the valley was there, watching and listening to the story as Druwez and Mortan related the events. Twice, the boys tried to get the babies to stand on their own, but neither attempt was successful. Both horses fell asleep several times in their arms, they appeared to be so weak, so very weak.

Both were the typical dun color of dead grass, with dark feet and stiff, short manes that were dark also. The mare though, had a light buff colored tail where the stallion's tail was darker than his feet. Their coats were still smeared with the remnants of afterbirth, and they smelled really bad.

Frebec led them up the side of the slope toward camp, the horses needed attention, but none of them had any ideas as to exactly what. Their appearance as they reached the camp drew another crowd. The children were the first to get to them, and surrounded them all the way into the clearing at the camp.

Latie and Tressie took over, they got a lot of help. A wide pallet of sleeping furs was set up in the shade of a tall pine at the edge of the camp area, and every child in the camp stayed close and jumped to do anything that was asked of them.

Rugie and Brinan kept watch over the younger children, keeping them back and preventing them from pestering the exhausted babies. Both ponies fell asleep quickly in the comfort of the furs. Rugie sat near the side of the slightly larger mare, wanting to pet and coddle her but knowing instinctively that the horse needed her sleep more than anything else. They lay nose to nose, their bodies touching for comfort.

Tressie fetched a small basket of oats and wheat from Nezzie, and gathered three large bowls. Latie poured a generous amount of water into all of the bowls, letting the grain soak in two of them. Both women pulled heating stones from the fire and added them to the bowls with the soaking grain. They sat at the fire, alternating stones as they cooled.

"What I remember from Ayla's explanations on how she raised Whinny..." Latie began.

**********

Barzec and Salen brought the two sledges down from the ridge. Even empty, they were cumbersome and made seeing the ground at their feet difficult. The long, gentle slope was mostly covered with ankle high grass, but they encountered a lot of fist sized rocks poking out of the ground. The grass helped the sledges slide easily enough, but both of them bounced and bumped off the rocks that were mostly unseen. This made footing a little treacherous, the rocks were hidden well in the tufts of bright green grass.

Down below, most of the primary butchering was completed. The animals cut into large pieces, heavy but still manageable. Large piles of bloody meat lay on the freshly skinned hides, and flies swarmed in the heat of the day. Several long strings of small intestines were cut into lengths as tall as a man, and a large pile of bright yellow, bloody fat had been scraped and piled up on the hide of one of the smaller calves.

It took a little while to get the hides all pulled together, and the stripped carcasses of the aurochs littered the area around them. This would be quite a scene later, Talut thought looking out at the brush on both sides of them. He knew that the cover already held more than a few scavengers, though he had actually seen no sign of them yet, he thought he had heard their rustling footfalls more than a few times.

They got the two sledges all loaded up, but there were still two full hides piled with meat left over. It took four men per hide to carry them, and they started back up the long rise. The sledges had two people each pushing them from the thick crossbar at the fronts, and it was hard, heavy work manipulating the loads uphill. They all trudged on, heading back to camp in good spirits and empty bellies.

**********

Latie cradled the male horse's head in her lap, Tressie watched what she was doing, and copied her carefully. She dipped two fingers into the warm mash of oats and wheat, and put it up to the mouth of the baby. The horse had no clue what to do with Latie's fingers, and moved his head and got a nostril full of the mash. He snorted weakly, and tried to lower his head. Tressie watched, then tried the same thing with the mare.

Rugie kept the rest of the children back at a distance where they were well out of the way but could see everything that was going on. Every child had a huge smile plastered across their face as they watched in awe.

The mare licked Tressie's fingers, getting a little soft grain into her mouth. The baby didn't know what to do next, and coughed and made a few choking sounds when she tried to swallow. Tressie gave her time to clear her throat, then tried again.

Latie got nowhere with the male, he seemed to be too weak to have any real interest, and kept trying to lay his head back down in her lap. She decided to try and get him to drink some cool water from the other bowl and lifted it up to his nose. He didn't know what to do with the water either, but when Latie pulled the bowl away from him, he did lick the water off his nose.

They both kept trying, with minimal results.

**********

"...if we follow the creek it should lead us well past that friendly camp and on to the river." Ludeg said.

"If we do that we could keep on going through the night, I'll bet the others are getting worried about us by now." Branag said, relishing the thought of getting back to his mate and the rest of the camp of travelers. This had been the longest stretch of time he had spent away from the son of his hearth since returning from their journey to try and save the Wolf Camp. It amazed him how much he missed the stout little boy.

"I'm for that, let's get a little further away from your friends over there first though, and then we can find that creek." Brenan said, and started back through the scattered brush to the west.

They stayed carefully in the cover of the short trees and brush, moving as quietly as possible until they came across the creek. Crossing the cool water, they moved on down stream on a southerly tact, staying close enough to keep the clear blue water in sight at all times. Far enough away from the camp of the angry short folks, they picked up their pace now and moved on a slow, ground eating trot.

**********

Three large fires burned high, and spits were completed and set up over two of them. Jozen and Stolie set up the last spit, with Gralon helping out. Bundles of fire wood were piled up between the fires in two large piles.

Both tents had already been set up, pitched at right angles to each other with the front openings close together. There were several trees scattered around them and the three fires set in the openings between the trees made a triangle out in front of the tents. The soft breeze blew the smoke of the fires away from the tents on past them to the north.

Thorec and Regan worked on tying up long sticks with leather straps, they were in the process of making a drying rack. A small pile of willow limbs of various sizes lay beside them in the grass.

Wymez and Rymar had located a willow at the edge of the ridge, and cut several long poles from the inner limbs close to the trunk of the tree. They saved all the small branches covered with the delicate willow leaves for generating extra smoke for the drying racks. The two men were about the same age, and seemed to really enjoy each others company. They hung out together often.

Nezzie was everywhere, directing a lot of the women in different chores. They had a meal to prepare and a lot of meat to get cooked, dried, and smoked. There was too much meat to try and cook all of it, and they needed a supply of dried or smoked meat to carry with them in reserve in case they needed it later on. She was never more in her element than when directing a feast, and Nezzie had projects going all over the camp.

Talut looked like he was about to take a bite out of the raw haunch of beef before he lifted it up high and got it settled into the spit supports over the center fire. The smells of searing meat already had his mouth watering from the fire to his left, and with all the exertion of the day's hunt he felt like he hadn't eaten in days.

The sun entered its downward, slow fall toward the western horizon. There was a little more daylight left, but the air was finally beginning to cool. Succulent aromas of the cooking meal were everywhere, and the camp settled down and relaxed for the night.

**********

Branag looked up to his right, eyeing the short, wooded hill that rose gently into the waning sunlight to the southeast. Something had caught his eye, but what, he wondered, was he just being paranoid?

Up ahead of him, the other three men trotted on and he quickened his step to catch back up with them. He glanced over at the hilltop again, something was strange over there, he thought, but he couldn't quite figure out what it was.

Ludeg led the four of them on at a fast trot, skirting around a wide group of low willows that grew all the way into the edge of the creek. Most of the trees had several exposed roots at ground level, and Ludeg gave them a wide berth as they jogged past them.

Bullfrogs hit the water with small splashes and a few throaty croaks, hidden well in the tangles of the roots at the water's edge. A little farther up the creek, a small group of spotted deer rushed away from the encroaching men with a clatter of hooves. They disappeared into the brush to the south in short order.

Darkness fell slowly, blending the long shadows together until they were one. The breeze cooled even more and the four scouts got a fresh shot of energy as the heat of the day faded away around them.

Branag couldn't get rid of the uneasy feeling, but he kept his long throwing spear tightly in his hand and followed Brenan in front of him. He stayed alert, watching and listening to his surroundings as well as he could.

**********

Latie and Tressie tried to get the horses to eat again after the evening meal. The mare got down a few swallows, but lost interest quickly and lay her head back down in Tressie's lap. She did get a few licks of water into her, but Tressie worried that it wasn't any where near enough.

Latie had no luck with the grain mash at all. She dunked the male's nose into the bowl of water a few times, but couldn't get him to do more than lick the excess from his wet nose. Latie was losing hope, it wasn't looking good at all.

**********

Ludeg kept their pace to a fast walk throughout the night. It wasn't safe to go any faster in the dark, there were too many things to trip over and animals to stumble up on. They had all fallen down at least once, and Brenan had hit the ground three times and stumbled a few more times to his knees in the course of their travels. His right knee was sore from hitting a jagged rock, but his pride was wounded worse than his leg. He was teased mercilessly by the others often, and was glad of the darkness, at least they couldn't see how red his face kept getting.

The nearly half moon was bright when they could see it through the tree tops, in a clear sky of sparkling stars. They had come up on many animals watering at the creek, most of which had run away without being seen. The exception was the mother bear with a yearling cub, that is. A single growl had given her a wide berth from the noisy humans, and she had waited and guarded her cub until all sounds of them had dissipated. It hadn't taken very long at all for their sounds to fade away.

**********

Near dawn, Branag got the uneasy feeling again. He was leading the small band, and was several steps away from the drop off down to the creek. This time he had a better idea of what it was that he was sensing. He caught the slight smell of something cooking, it was very brief, but it was real.

Doubting himself, and weary from the constant pace they had kept up all night, he waited to catch another scent on the breeze before he would mention it to the others. His nostrils flared at every small gust of wind, and after a few more steps, he smelled it again. Branag slowed, and allowed the rest of them to gather around him.

"Boys, we must be close, I just smelled our first meal cooking on the fire."


	16. Chapter 14 Part 1

**Chapter Fourteen**

_**Old Friends**_

**Part One**

Brug walked out of the camp in the still darkness to the southeast, he followed the river bank a dozen steps or so away from edge of the water. He had a scabbard of three spears slung diagonally across his back and a throwing spear in his right hand. A second quiver of three gaff pointed spears and their corresponding coils of braided cordage hung below his left arm. They dangled down to just below his waist, the sharp carved bone points of the spears poking out in front of his body at a sharp angle, aiming up into the dark sky.

The breeze was cool coming off the water from the southeast, and the sky was clear and nearly black above him. The stars were just starting to dim and the last remnants of what had been a bright quarter moon had already faded completely out of sight, dawn would be here soon.

Brug walked at a quick pace along the edge of a long row of willows to his left. Trees that varied in size from older, more mature willows with huge canopies of springy branches and bright green leaves to much younger, shorter and more compact trees. He worked his way around the southern end of the tree line, and cut back due east.

The ground here was mostly flat with deep brown soil and rocky strips of smooth gravel and an abundance of tall clumps of weeds and wild flowers and even a few scattered trees. Up ahead was a slight drop off that began with a low rock ledge that looked to be an old erosion line. More low brush grew here as well, scattered at first, then growing a little thicker and slightly more dense. More trees, mainly willows, cedar, and alder began in a haphazard configuration within the new growth of brush and stretched on out to the near bank of the creek beyond to the east. The trees here were mostly willows though, and there were a lot of them.

Brug had come across this wide feeder creek just before sunset yesterday while he and Crag had gone out scouting for more waterfowl and good places to hunt them. They had flushed up a good size gaggle of geese, and several of the smaller, quicker flying teal with their bright red and blue-green heads.

Crag had declined to come with him this morning, but had not objected to Brug going on alone. The hunt leader had told him that Brug was a skilled enough hunter to hunt these ducks and geese on his own, he needed no other help. Brug knew he was right, hunting alone was something that he enjoyed, and he did it as often as he could. Especially first thing in the morning when everything was quiet and cool like it was right now.

The tall weeds scraped against his thighs, making soft brushing sounds as the young hunter reached the top edge of the short rock ledge. The sudden clatter of several sets of hooves startled him as several unseen deer fled to the north from somewhere in the cover of the brush out in front of him. Brug hopped down the short bluff of rock and landed softly in the loose gravel. He wound his way through the wide, thick bodied bushes, and stopped in front of the first willow he came to try and get his bearings in the dark.

The night was so still he could hear the soft, serene sounds of the gurgling water of the creek just past the far stand of trees out in front of him. He listened carefully, not wanting to be taken unaware by any nocturnal hunters, even though he knew that most of them should be done by now for the evening. From far away to the northwest, a cave lion roared, pronouncing his or her dominance in their usual frightening fashion. Brug got chill bumps at the sound, even though it was from so far away that even the general direction from whence it came was distorted completely through the hills, valleys, and woods that separated them. Even muted and muffled, it was an ominous sound.

He walked on, the soft scrunching of his footfalls in the leaves and grass creating light, easy sounds that were pleasing to him in the quiet of the morning. Brug then veered southeast around three small willows that grew so close together that it was hard to tell where one stopped and the next one started. When he passed the last tree, he saw the shimmering water of the wide, but fairly shallow creek.

Brug looked upstream and then downstream in the darkness, squinting hard in the dark to try and make out the details of his surroundings. Then he thought he saw what he had been searching for, a patch of four tall, wide, berry covered bushes whose branches reached out and overhung the edge of the water.

Crag had seen this place yesterday, and had proclaimed it a perfect place to hide, he was right. Brug walked quickly and quietly toward this ideal spot. Three of the bushes grew along the banks of the creek, and the fourth grew right behind them. It was perfect, and he positioned himself between the bushes with three in front of him and larger, widest one covering him from behind. He carefully pulled the scabbard with the gaff tipped spears off his shoulder and set it down beside him to his left on the ground and got busy.

Brug was ready long before the first signs of the impending dawn came along. His long throwing spear was on the ground within easy reach of his right hand, and the scabbard with the rest of his long spears just past it. The gaff tipped spear and its coil of cord in front of him at his knees, the other two to his left side close by. All were neatly arranged and ready for quick deployment.

Brug settled in, and did his best to get comfortable for the long wait until daylight would make its appearance.

**********

All three of the main fires burned hot and tall out in front of the tents. The succulent aromas of seared aurochs permeated the entire camp site. A wide skin of stew hung over a stiff tripod near the center fire, close enough to keep it warm with a heavy bison skin draped over it to keep out the night insects.

Regan and Stolie tended to the cooking duties, with Jozen and Thorec hanging around to help and give them company. A lot of good natured flirting and teasing banter was going on between them. Regan and Thorec were formally promised to be mated, and Jozen and Stolie were a hot item as well.

A large tea basket sat close to the stew on a flat rock. It got a heavy workout throughout the night, and a stack of cups, both used and unused sat on each side of the basket.

Guard duty on this second shift was manned by Mekan, Gralon, Ranec, and Druwez. The men stayed together in pairs and were armed as if they were ready to go out hunting, they carried throwing spears and all had spear throwers in quivers draped across their backs. During the course of their watch, they didn't get too far out past the light of any the three fires and the four smaller perimeter fires.

One pair of the men kept a constant vigil on the flats below the ridge line. Wolves, hyenas and even a few fox had been fighting over the aurochs carcasses since a little before dark. The low growls of some species of large cat was heard sometime after dark, and it kept them all on their toes. Their occasional noises and scuffling had been heard all night long.

Druwez stopped by and checked on the ponies often, Latie and Tressie had both bed down with them. Bralut slept in the crook of Laties arm in the softness of their sleeping furs and the soft bed of pine needles beneath them. Both women cuddled up to the small horses. Mortan slept beside Tressie, his hand draped around the neck of the young stallion.

Snoring could be heard from both tents. They both had their door flaps tied back at each end to allow the soft, cool breeze to filter through. A few people had bed down out in the open somewhat near the center and eastern fires, Manuv led the snoring contest there. Thus far he was leading in both the volume and consistency races. Little Nuvie slept curled up under his arm, tight against the older man's chest.

A single sparrow whistled and chirped from somewhere within the near tree cover, she was answered by a meadowlark out past the ridge. They sang back and forth to each other in the darkness in a pleasant duet.

**********

Etra pierced the thin strips of pork through the sharpened ends of long thin willow limbs. She propped them up over a stationary horizontal branch that spanned across from two piles of rock. She dangled the strips of meat out over the fire, setting a rock against the butts of the flexible poles to hold them safe and secure. Etra had six strips spaced apart and cooking at the same time, and a platter piled high with more meat near her.

Crag sat slumped over, leaning against a short, wide log. His head was faced down between his knees, he was dozing, snoring softly. Crag hadn't moved since Brug had discussed his hunting agenda with him and left camp a little while ago. Etra carefully draped a soft aurochs calf skin over his shoulders when she finished propping up the last willow pole. He didn't move.

The fresh meat sizzled over the heat of the fire. Small droplets of blood and fat fell into the low, hot blaze sending up thin, bright red and orange fingers of flame that contrasted pleasantly with the mostly yellow coloring of the tops of the wide fire. The smell was incredibly enticing.

Rug and Draag walked in from the outer perimeter fire and helped themselves to the tea basket. Draag was walking easily in his new cast, and it hardly affected him at all now that he was getting used to it. He no longer had the pronounced limp the heavier cast had caused.

They walked back out to the northern perimeter to make another round while sipping their tea. Rug paused to toss a few more branches on the western most perimeter fire. Draag peered out into the darkness past the glimmering fire light. It was quiet now, whatever had made off with the carcass of the sow was long gone. Probably wolves, he thought, hyenas would have finished it off where it lay.

**********

It always seemed to get a little darker just before daylight, Branag thought as he walked around a wide willow. Just when your eyes are used to the faint light of the moon and stars, they fade away before the sun comes up and it gets hard to see anything at all. The flexible, low hanging branches swayed gently in the soft southeasterly breeze.

Up ahead, a soft rustling sound began, with the clatter of hooves and snorts. The sounds got louder fast as they got closer. Branag raised his spear and took a quick step back. The men behind him all heard it at the same time, and scrambled to face whatever it was that was coming at them.

Three deer appeared out of nowhere and scampered past, so close they had to veer sharply away from Branag at the last possible moment to keep from running him over. Branag and the other three weary men jumped and ducked, spears on high, but unable to see the deer clearly enough to do anything about it in the intense darkness of the very early morning.

"What was that?" Danug asked, in a hoarse, exasperated whisper.

"Deer." Brenan said, grinning from the close call. His whole body shook from the sudden rush of adrenalin the surprise encounter caused.

"Branag, you might want to keep a sharp eye out ahead." Ludeg whispered. "Something definitely spooked them."

"Sure, I see as well as any owl." Branag answered, chuckling. The trembling in his hands subsided slowly and he walked on.

There it was again, the faint smell of cooking meat. They all smelled it, and a little of their weariness waned ever so slightly as they walked on down the bank of the creek.

Walking slowly and quietly to be able to hear anything out in front of them, Branag's mouth began to water at the thought of a hot meal and a soft bed deep with sleeping furs. His mind wandered, and he thought of the son of his hearth and of Deegie. It was amazing how much he had missed them over the course of the last several days, he longed to cuddle between them both and get some sleep. Some real, undisturbed sleep. Branag was so very, very tired.

The soft whoosh of wings and the low pitched chatter of ducks passed by them overhead in the dark sky. Branag ducked, surprised by the sounds that seemed to come out of nowhere, still a little shell shocked from the deer.

Brenan at the back of the line ducked also, his mind was not on the trail before him, but somewhere off in Latie's soft and loving arms. He could almost feel the warmth of her body pressed tightly against his in his mind's eye. Brenan's real eyes were so tired that they ached, along with the rest of his weary body.

**********

A gust of wind rustled the leaves of the bushes, and Brug thought he heard a few muffled splashes in the water up to the north. He hunkered down and tried to see through the darkness and the low leafy branches of the thick bushes.

This is really the hardest part about hunting these water birds, he thought, the waiting and being unable to even see your prey. He heard a soft low pitched chatter, ducks, Brug thought, he knew that sound. Brug took another deep breath and tried to be patient.

The first soft glow of dawn began to appear eerily through the tree tops across the creek. The dark blue-black sky lightened slowly but surely and Brug's vision increased steadily. He watched the water for any sign of movement other than the rippling top of the water through the long shadows. The occasional low pitched chatter he heard was hard to locate, the soft sounds of the ducks seemed to just skip across the water and bounce back at him from odd directions.

There, movement to the left. Brug watched carefully, reaching out and pulling a leafy twig out from of in front of his face to see better. Three ducks swam near the shoreline, meandering around in no particular hurry. One thrust his head underwater, his flared tail feathers bobbing on the surface. Another did the same.

The light gradually increased, and Brug could now see several ducks scattered around the edges of the water and a pair close to the center of the creek almost right in front of him. An eagle screeched out from behind him, and he jerked ever so slightly because of the sudden sound. He didn't dare look up to see it, he was in full ambush mode and was worried that his movement could have made too much noise and spooked the ducks. Brug peered back through the leaves of the bush, they were still there, and looked as they hadn't heard him.

Quietly and slowly, Brug grasped the thin spear with the carved bone, hooked tip in his right hand. He reached out with his fingertips and slid them under the coil of braided cord and lifted it up. Brug was ready, everything was in position, now it was just up to the cooperation of the ducks.

As Brug concentrated on the differences of the lighter gaff tipped spears and how you had to throw them, so different from the larger, heavier throwing spears, an odd thought crossed his mind. Would it work, was it even possible? He took a deep breath and watched the ducks, they were still a little too far out there. Brug had time yet, and pondered this new idea. If I were quick enough, and stayed low and out of sight long enough...

Considering abstract thoughts and ideas were difficult for anyone of the Clan, and it was almost impossible for Brug, but he tried to think it through anyway. At his age and with the experience level he possessed Brug had no real concept of what all he could and could not do anyway. It was truly the innocence and naivety of youth.

Two ducks followed behind the three closest to him that he had his eye on. Brug watched them closely, back and forth. All three of the nearest ducks ducked down at the same time, eating plants off the rocky bottom.

If my first shot is good, I will try this, he thought to himself. He had no real confidence in the new idea, but it intrigued him greatly nevertheless. Brug set the spear down and took the end of the cord and tied it through his wide belt. The three closest ducks surfaced one after the other, chewing green, stringy looking plants that hung out the sides of their wide bills.

Brug waited, the front three were well within easy range now, and the trailing pair were getting closer all the time. The muscles in his shoulders and arms quivered with excitement.

The trailing pair swam right at him, the green headed male chasing the drab, brown headed female. She was quick, and they went all the way past the trio and she circled around them with him in tow. The three ducks chewed and watched the byplay of the randy pair.

Brug slowly raised up through the cover of the bush, when his eyes cleared the top of the leaves, he sighted back in on his prey. He transferred the spear to his left hand, and reached back down and pulled another spear and its coil of cord into position below him. When he gripped the spear back in his right hand, he raised back up to the top of the bush and peered through it cautiously.

The female quacked loudly and put on a fresh burst of speed, trying to use the three ducks as a barrier between her and the persistent male. One of the three she swam past was a female, and she quacked loudly, sounding as if she were scolding the encroaching male.

Brug lifted the spear, it brushed against a twig and the bush rustled softly. The ducks paid him no attention, lost in their own activities. Holding his left hand waist high, Brug took a deep breath and reminded himself one last time, speed and accuracy, not strength. He let it fly, and held his left hand up to allow the cord to unwind.

The center duck of the trio was hit full in the breast and quacked out in a raspy voice, flapping one wing against the surface of the water frantically.

Brug dropped the coil, and reached down and retrieved the other spear and coil of cord quickly. When he raised back up, the ducks were all in a state of confusion for the briefest of moments and he sighted on the randy male and let fly again. The coil unwound gracefully out of his left hand, following the spear.

The male never saw it coming, and the spear took him directly in the side, piercing one wing against his body. The creek suddenly exploded into chaos. Warning quacks sounded out from all over. Ducks ran across the surface of the water from all directions, wings pounding and rapidly gaining speed enough to get air born as quickly as they could in a loud flutter of wings and quacks.

Brug stared out in front of him, his eyes wide with wonder. He could scarcely believe what he saw. Two green headed male ducks, floating on the surface, impaled by his spears—two of them. The nearest duck flapped one wing weakly against the water, he slowed and finally dropped his head to the surface of the creek and his wing stilled. Brug's dark brown eyes were wide and glistened with awe, he did it, he actually did it.

He stood up tall, and looked all around at his surroundings. His entire body trembled with the pent up excitement of it all. Brug lifted both hands high into the air and screamed out loudly with the proclamation of the kill. It felt so good, he did it again.

**********

Branag froze at the sound. Ludeg bumped into him from behind, knocking him slightly off balance and he stumbled forward a step. He recognized that sound, but could it be? Could it possibly be?

"Whoa, what was that?" Danug asked, coming to a quick stop, looking to the south and into the dense brush and trees that lined the creek. Nothing looked out of place.

Branag took off without thinking about it, leaving the others behind with bewildered looks on their faces.

"That sounded like a Clan yell of triumph to me." Brenan said.

"It did sound like that, didn't it?" Ludeg said, watching Branag heading rapidly out of sight through the scattered brush to the south.

"What kind of yell?" Danug asked, looking from Brenan to Ludeg and back again. They were both smiling at each other, and this only added to his confusion. "What are you two talking about?"

"Let's go." Ludeg said, and the three of them took off to try and catch up with Branag. Danug just looked exasperated, and followed along behind them.

**********

Brug pulled the cord in hand over hand, allowing it to gather at his feet in a loose pile. The other duck was already on the ground beside him. He stood just past the last bush of the clump, and his arms still trembled with his excitement of his success. If he heard any of the rustling in the brush back behind him, he gave no sign of it.

"Brug?" The soft, vaguely familiar voice from behind him made the young hunter jump. He froze in place, then took a deep breath and turned his head slowly, almost afraid of what he might see.

**********

Brenan led the three of them around a large willow whose outer, springy limbs hung to the ground and on past it into a small clearing, following the general direction Branag had taken off in. Clearing the west side of the low hanging, leaf covered limbs, he stopped and couldn't help but to stare at what he saw. Danug and Ludeg stepped up beside him and stopped, both of them were mesmerized at the sight before them as well. What they saw brought tears to their eyes.

Just a few steps behind a patch of wide, berry covered bushes at the bank of the creek near a single short willow, a man and a boy embraced. The boy's legs dangled in the air and a pair of green headed ducks lay speared on the ground at their feet. Branag had picked up Brug and the two were cheek to cheek with their arms wrapped tightly around each other. Branag wept openly.

The three of them stood by passively and watched, not wanting to interrupt or spoil this tender, heartfelt moment. None of them had even considered the possibility that the smells they followed could have been from the Clan. They had all thought that it was their own camp they were approaching. It was, however, a more than welcome surprise.

Brenan wondered if the rest of their band of travelers had met up with the Clan, and were already there waiting for them. I'll know soon enough, he thought, missing his mate and son.

Branag squatted down, and set Brug back to the ground gently in front of him. This boy has grown, he thought to himself as he looked at how stocky Brug had gotten. Branag held him by the shoulders, feeling his powerful, young muscles. He is more filled out and maybe even a little taller now, he thought. Branag studied the tunic and leggings that Brug wore, it was a nice, pleasing design, and so very well made. The memories of the mixed group of women working side by side who made these clothes brought back a pleasant mental picture. This familiar face was the same though, and Branag recognized and savored every minute detail of it through the sparkles of his tears in the early morning sun.

"Brann-uh" Brug's guttural, clipped voice was laced with strong emotion as he raised his right hand and signed. 'How did you get—why are you here?'

'Long story.' Branag signed, then the large man sighed, smiling through his tears as he continued. 'Where "Clan"?

'Back at camp, over there.' Brug answered, pointing through the willows and alders to the northwest.

Branag looked over his shoulder to see a single, wide finger of dark smoke that rose into the light, pink and orange sky twisting on the soft breeze through the tops of the trees. It wasn't very far away through the brush. Not far away at all, and his stomach rumbled as the passing scent of something delicious smelling got his attention.

'We hungry, "Clan" feed?' Branag grinned as he signed, then rubbed his belly.

Brug nodded his head emphatically, the look in his dark eyes was about as close to a smile as the Clan could manage. It warmed Branag's sizable heart to see this look again after all this time and he felt a fat knot well up in his throat.

"Rug" and "Troog" killed a sow yesterday just before dark. "Etra" is cooking her on the spit right now.' Brug signed, his excitement signing about anything having to do with hunting coming through easily, as usual.

So that's what I've been smelling off and on all night, Branag thought to himself, listening to his stomach rumble—again. The very thought of Clan cooking made his mouth water, he had eaten more than his fair share of Etra's awesome cooking this past winter.

Branag grinned broadly, then signed. 'Think "Clan" let us go with?'

Brug was thunderstruck, his deep brown eyes showed the confusion he suddenly felt inside. He looked into Branag's odd, sky colored eyes and realized all at once just exactly what he had been asked. He began to sign again, but this time he was so excited and went so fast that Branag couldn't even begin to keep up.

Branag held up his right hand, and made a single sign. 'Slow.'

Brug took a deep, trembling breath and began again, much slower this time despite his excitement. 'You want to come with us to the Land of the Sun?'

Branag just grinned a crooked grin and nodded his head, big fat tears rolling down his cheeks and into his short reddish brown beard. His blue-green eyes sparkling in the early morning sun.

Brug lurched forward and wrapped his arms around Branag again, and trembled when he squeezed him tight. Branag held him just as tightly, feeling the strong, muscular upper body of the boy. They held each other for a long, long time, savoring their strong, pent up feelings.

A movement caught Brug's eye to his right, and he saw the other three men of the Others, standing still and watching them. Two of these men were familiar faces, and Brug's heart warmed at the sight of them, but one of them was a stranger. He looked like a thin, young Trall-ut, the huge, friendly leader of the Lion Camp. Brug thought back to remember some of the late night stories told around the Aurochs Camp fire last winter. Some of them were of the son of Trall-ut's hearth, and by the way this tall man looked, Brug knew that this must be him.

Brenan started toward them, and the other two followed along beside him, all of them were grinning broadly.

Brug could not have been much happier, it was almost like something out of a dream. A very happy dream.

**********

Crag stood with Rug next to him at the far west end of the campsite, looking out into the scattered brush and tree cover. He wondered when he would see Brug, knowing that the boy had already finished his morning hunt. By the sound of his yell of triumph, Crag also surmised he had most likely had another successful outing. Crag was amazed at the tenacity of the young hunter, the skills he showed on a daily basis and his drive to hunt was second to nothing the old hunter had ever seen.

Rug thought much along the same lines himself, standing beside the hunt leader. How many times has this boy fed this entire Clan, he wondered proudly. The consistency of the results of Brug's early morning forays were absolutely incredible. It made Rug regret that there would be no Clan gathering for him to share and brag about these amazing exploits from his youngest hunter.

"Rug."

The sound of Crag's voice brought him out of his musings, and what he saw almost made him take a step back it shocked him so badly. Four tall men of the Others rounded a short willow to the northwest, with Brug riding on the shoulders of the one in the lead. Two green headed ducks were draped around Brug's neck and fell onto the front of his chest, bouncing as they walked.

"Brann-uh", it's "Brann-uh"! Crag said and signed excitedly.

Rug just watched for a moment, taking a deep breath to control his own excitement, then he was able to recognize Breen-uh and Lud-dak as well. He didn't recognize the other man, but he did look strangely familiar. Rug's heart beat rapidly, and his hands quivered slightly. He turned his face to his right side and called out a single name. "Mog-ur!"

**********

"...should be finished with the last of the meat by mid day or so." Nezzie was saying to Talut and Vincavec. The cooking had gone on all through the night in shifts.

"Good, I want to move on and get away from here. There are too many scavengers down there past the ridge." Vincavec said, then looked to Talut and went on. "I wonder how much farther it is to the river?"

"No telling." Talut said, grinning. "But I know one way to find out. Let's send Salen and Jozen on a scouting mission."

"Good idea." Vincavec turned and walked to the west end of the camp toward a loose group of people hanging out at a perimeter fire.

**********

Branag had to stop and think, he was having trouble remembering some of the signs he needed to finish the abbreviated story.

'These bad "Others" come, look for us.' Branag smiled, remembering. 'Want hurt us. Bad men. We leave, look for "Clan".

Branag paused, then signed again, slowly and carefully.

'Want go to Land of Sun with "Clan".

If rapid signing and the nervous shuffling of feet created noise, it would have been an uproar of major proportions around the fire.

Brenan and Ludeg laughed aloud, and Branag joined in with them after a moment. Such fabulous, funny looking expressions on all these normally stoic faces, they all thought, reveling in this, the rarest of moments.

Danug simply watched and tried to take it all in. He couldn't help but to think back and to remember Rydag. So these were his original people, how very odd they all are. He could see so may similarities between them and his long dead brother that it brought tears to his eyes. Especially when he watched Brug, who sat between Branag and Ludeg. It wasn't just his small stature, Brug was incredibly thick and strong looking where Rydag had been so thin and weak. It was more, something about the subtle expressions that Brug made, something in his eyes. Something that was painfully familiar.

Branag had his arm around the boy while they all watched the Clan's reactions. He looked over to the Mog-ur and was pleasantly surprised at how serene and in control he appeared to be. He sat quietly with the child Ooga in his lap, it was a familiar, calming sight.

Mog-ur grunted, and raised his hands. The frantic signing slowed and stopped as all attention turned to the holy man. Mog-ur waited until they settled down. The short wait helped them to regain most of their lost composure. Ooga reached up and tugged on his long beard. Mog-ur lowered his hands and began to sign.

'It has been seven moons since we left our friends of the "Others". Our journey has been long and eventful, and we have come a long, long way. We still have a long way to go, how far only mighty "Ursus" knows.'

He paused for effect, then went on.

'Now, if we are to be rejoined with these kind people, our friends, I am pleased. If they want to join us on our sacred journey, I say they are welcome. The Land of the Sun is vast, and our friends are more than welcome to come and share it with us.'

Heads nodded in agreement all over the camp. The men of the Others had only a vague idea of what was actually said, but the reaction they witnessed from the Clan was encouraging enough.

Danug in particular watched them all with interest. His memory of the silent language was severely diminished from his time spent without using it, or even thinking much about it. The memories of the brother that had died were still just too painful to dwell on.

**********

The three of them took off along the ridge, leaving the large camp behind them. Druwez had somehow wrangled permission to come along, and both Salen and Jozen welcomed the young man's company.

They ran at a fast trot, weaving through the scattered brush with ease. It was nice to travel with so small a load, and their feet felt light and quick. The early morning sun was bright and the light wind was cool on the ridge.

They jogged on, putting ground behind them at a fast pace.

**********

Danug took another bite from the strip of hot pork. He chewed it slowly, enjoying the unusual flavor. The taste was unlike anything he had ever experienced, even throughout his two year long journey. It was very good, and he took another bite slightly singing the inside of his mouth from the searing heat.

Branag had almost forgotten how quiet it could be in a camp of the Clan. He had not forgotten how good Clan food was though, and continued to work on the platter piled high in his lap.

When he finished his second platter, Brenan took a third cup of tea from Ova and sat back to relax his bulging belly. Branag was finishing his own platter, and Brenan thought about their new situation.

"Branag, should Ludeg and I go back upriver and find the others?" He asked, still wondering if this was a good idea or not.

"Good question." Branag answered, sipping his tea in thought.

"I'll go with him." Danug volunteered. "We'll stay on the river bank, they can't be too far behind us from here."

Branag thought about it for a while, and ultimately decided that this was probably the best approach. He gave Brug a squeeze, and looked up at Ludeg.

"Go ahead, and take Danug with you. Brenan and I will wait for you here."

Ludeg nodded, and he and Danug both got up and rearranged their back packs and spear scabbards.

Brenan sat back, though he missed his mate and the son of his hearth, he was glad to get a rest. It had been a long last few days of forced travel.

Mog-ur watched the men of the Others, he had a vague idea of what they talked about and was not surprised when two of them got up and made preparations to leave. He wondered how this would change their journey, but he wasn't really too worried about it.

One thing he had learned from traveling before with these people was that they were indeed efficient. Efficient at everything. Another thing, they never went hungry either, he thought. We haven't gone hungry ourselves though, not with the new hunting weapons and with Brug around we aren't likely to, either. These thoughts amused him, and Mog-ur felt better about their trek than he usually did.

This must be Ursus' plan, he thought. Mog-ur was very secure in this thought, and he was content.

**********

Druwez led the way, the excitement of the adventure still fueling his steps. It wasn't often that he had been included in the daily activities that were primarily considered to be the adult responsibilities, though it was happening more and more of late. They were treating him more like the man he was rapidly growing up to be, and it was very satisfying.

He was glad to be away from the camp, it wasn't looking good for the ponies. Not good at all. Druwez was heartsick, he so wanted to be able to raise them and make them his friends, just like Ayla had done with her horses. It wasn't looking like he would get that chance. The little male was barely able to lift his own head this morning, and the female wasn't doing much better.

Druwez paused, the rocky ridge was beginning to flatten out a bit, and a tree row loomed out in front of him. Salen and Jozen stopped next to him, and the three of them studied the lay of the land before them.

"When in doubt, go south." Salen said softly, thinking of Vincavec's advice before they left camp.

Jozen looked at the trees, and decided the same thing. To their left the trees looked to veer to the east and join up with the rest of the thick woods there, the thin clearing looked like it continued to the south.

"South it is, then." Druwez said, and started off to skirt the trees to the west side.

**********

'...and be careful at the waterfall.' Brug signed to Ludeg. 'There were many bears there catching salmon in the river.'

Ludeg grinned, in his many travels he had seen bears fishing for salmon before. He was able to understand Brug's signs pretty well, and he thought for a moment before signing in return.

'How far?'

'It took us two days to get here.'

Ludeg nodded, then turned back to Mog-ur and Rug standing beside him. "Clan" wait here, we come back.'

Rug nodded, and signed. 'Walk with "Ursus".

Ludeg smiled, then turned to head upriver with Danug beside him. They walked at a steady, measured pace along the river bank. Both men were tired, really tired from their all night trek of the night before. Ludeg figured that they would stop when it got hot later in the morning and rest for a while, and he looked forward to it.

**********

The baby stallion died in Laties arms while she was trying to get him to eat from her hand. It was late morning, and he had actually gotten a few bites down a little earlier in the day. The baby had given it a valiant effort, but it wasn't enough. Latie had hoped it was a good sign of things to come, but the little horse was just too weak and mildly succumbed to the inevitable. It broke her heart, and Rugie gathered the rest of the constant audience of the smaller children and took them away. She wept openly with the rest of them.

Mortan was there beside her when the stallion dropped his head for the last time, and he and Latie cried together. Latie cradled the pony in her arms, and Mortan stroked his short mane lovingly. Mortan leaned into Latie, and the close contact gave them both a little comfort.

Tressie was trying to get the mare to eat at the same time, but she only seemed interested and able to lick the droplets of water off her nose feebly when Tressie put the bowl to her face. The mare had also grown weaker throughout the morning, and Tressie held out little hope for her either. They were both just too small, too weak, she thought. They needed their mother's milk, and that was one thing that she couldn't provide.

Talut and Frebec took the dead baby off and covered him with rocks in a small burial cairn. Big hearted Talut had tears in his eyes the whole time, and Frebec cried openly, unashamed.

**********

Salen was the first to spot the river, he heard it before he actually saw it and had slowed down to a more cautious pace. In the quiet of the late afternoon, small sounds seemed scattered about in front of him.

The soft sounds of a waterfall low pitched and constant came from past the line of brush, but there was more. The man stood still, listening intently. The sounds they picked out varied; songbirds all around them, a low pitched growl, the yip of a fox, the screech of an eagle. It seemed to come from all over the area ahead of them.

Jozen whispered hoarsely. "Be alert, there is a lot of activity down there."

The three men moved slowly through the brush and scattered trees. They caught a few brief glimpses of the river as they grew closer to the sounds of the waterfall through the cover.

Druwez' eyes were everywhere, darting from the movement of one limb swaying in the breeze to a soft sound from a different direction. He froze, seeing a deep brown blur through the leafy branches of a short alder to the southeast.

"What's that?" He whispered as the other two stopped and looked to where he pointed.

Salen had a slightly different angle, and saw the brown bear lift her head up to test the scents on the wind.

"Bear." He whispered. "Big bear. Let's give her some room."

Jozen nodded in agreement, and led them more easterly, winding around a short willow. What they saw when they cleared the sprawling branches of the tree stopped them again to watch. Two brown bear stood still at the edge of the waterfall, and a yearling cub rambled around on the near shoreline playing with two salmon. He went back and forth between the two, swatting first one and then the other, growling happily.

On the far bank of the river, a grey fox sat in the shade of a short, wide bush. Watching and waiting patiently. An eagle sat on top of the tallest branches of a pine looking down at the river. A single salmon lay at the river's edge near the bear in the water, its tail flopped every now and again. Two vultures stood watching on a wide, flat rock, their wings stretched out to catch the bright rays of the sun.

"Well, now we know." Salen whispered. "That mother bear won't like it if she sees us near her cub. Let's just back up and head back to camp."

Jozen nodded and backed up to put the tree between them and the waterfall. They backtracked through the brush and turned back northeast up toward the tree line. Working their way around a trio of alders that grew so close together that their branches intertwined, they heard an unseen rustling in the woods out in front of them. Salen caught a glimpse of a wolf bounding through a break in the trees.

"Wolves ahead, bears to the south, this is interesting." He said, looking hard into the break for any other signs of the wolves, grinning.

Druwez couldn't have agreed more, this was exciting. He felt the tingling of goose bumps on his arms, and got a tighter grip on his long spear. When they reached the shadows of the tree line, they turned back north along its edge.

**********

Danug stretched out in the shade of a wide slung willow, the swaying branches reached the ground almost all the way around him. His eyes stung he was so tired, even when he closed them. He laid his spear out on the ground next to his scabbard, laid his head down, and promptly fell asleep.

Ludeg sat leaning against the trunk of the tree, propped up by a thick limb at his right side that he draped his arm over. He watched Danug stretch out and get still, and wasn't surprised when his breathing got soft and regular. Ludeg was so weary, but one of us needs to stay awake to keep watch, he thought.

This was the last conscious thought he had before drifting off himself. The soft sounds of the river flowing and the songbirds chirping and whistling around him lulled him to sleep before he knew it.

**********

Talut brought them to a stop a little before dark. They had made pretty good progress, even though they had only traveled for a little less than half the day. The clearing they were in was a good place to camp for the night, and besides, he was hungry again.

Latie made the sad discovery that the little mare had died sometime during the last leg of their travels when she went to get her off the back of the sledge that Frebec and Tulie had been dragging. It was hard to accept, and even harder to tell Tressie and Mortan.

Tressie and Mortan decided to take her off and bury her themselves, but Talut insisted that he come along to keep an eye on them. Talut carried the spindly legged pony cradled in his huge arms gently. They made their way down a small slope to a patch of rocks and gravel in a small break in the brush to the west.

The burial brought tears to his eyes, and he stayed back out of the way and let the two of them do all the work. Talut knew it was a good way to work through their grief, but it was all he could do not to go over and help them anyway, it was just his nature.

Nezzie fixed up a large skin of stew with some of the precooked aurochs meat as a base stock. She had a lot of help, even though the camp was a buzz of activity as they pitched the tents and built the fire pits for the night.

As practiced as they all were, the camp site was fully set up and provisioned for the night in short order. With so many helping hands, it had become a quick and easy routine.

**********

Brug lay in the crook of Branag's arm in the shade of a tall pine, looking up through the branches and reveling in the closeness of this sleeping man that he had missed so much. He felt a security he hadn't felt in a long time, and he was about as happy as he could be. They had stretched out sleeping furs and piled up pine needles for a pillow under the skin at one end. Brenan slept beside them, snoring lightly.

The late afternoon sun was waning, and the air in the shade was cool and comfortable. Without the need to travel, the Clan took full advantage of the lull and relaxed for the first time in days.

Etra and the other women started preparations for a vast evening meal. It only seemed appropriate to welcome their friends with a feast. Since they would be staying here until the rest of the Others arrived, it sounded like a good idea all around. Their stocks of food were absolutely overflowing, the women of the Clan were expert at gathering while they traveled. It would be good to be able to thin out some of the greens before they lost all their freshness.

Before long, the scents of stew and grain cakes permeated the entire area. Branag dreamed of food, prompted by the luscious smells, and smiled in his sleep. Brug cuddled close, and drifted off himself.

**********

The scouts made it back to camp a little after dark, tired and excited to inform the rest of them that the river was close. It was only a day or so away at the speed the huge group was able to make. They gorged on the stew and soon after, only Druwez was left awake to tell the story of what they found at the waterfall.

"...and a bear actually caught a salmon in its mouth when it jumped up to clear the rocks of the falls."

The grin on his face made the rest of his attentive audience smile as well. The youthful enthusiasm Druwez put forth was contagious, and more than a few of the adults had seen this incredible sight themselves at some time in their lives.

Tulie and Barzec both watched Druwez with interest. The boy was growing up so fast, he was a young man now and this realization hit them both a little bit differently. Tulie was a little sad, and Barzec was more than a little proud. Parents often saw things from slightly different perspectives, and this was one of those times.

Barzec felt a soft pang of fear as Druwez talked about the bears, the protective feelings he harbored for the son of his hearth was hard to dismiss. It must be the same with every man, he thought, when a boy grows into the beginning stages of manhood. Barzec would always see the little boy first when he looked at Druwez, it was only natural.

Tulie felt a tear well up, and tried to suppress it. Her baby looked more like a man than he ever had to her before, and this thought gave her pause. All her babies kept growing up, and it was a hard realization for any mother to make. Tulie looked over and watched the rapt expression on Brinan's face a he watched his older brother tell his story. He looked older all of the sudden as well, and this didn't help her mood. She slid over a little closer to Barzec, and lay her head on his shoulder. Barzec put his arm around her waist.

Deegie nursed Brydag and had another take on all this as she watched quietly, her younger sibling was starting to remind her more and more of her own mate. What a strange thought to have, she pondered, but they are a lot alike.

Branag was a flint worker first and foremost, and Druwez had been training to be the same with Wymez for quite a while now. Druwez wasn't as tall as her mate, but his hair color was the very close to the same as Branag's, and both of them had the same wide shoulders, narrow waist, and long legs. Branag was heavier and more strongly muscled, but she remembered that he was thinner when he was Druwez' age too. He had grown into his larger stature over time. Druwez would definitely fill out more, and had already done so substantially since they had begun this journey.

Deegie thought about the many similarities of the two men that she loved so much, and she continued to compare the two of them in her mind. She decided that Druwez would make some woman a very good mate one day, and wondered who it might be.

Brydag drifted off to sleep and the nipple popped out of his mouth as his head dropped to her chest. Deegie wrapped her tunic around him, and listened as Druwez continued his story. She wished Branag was here.

Latie and Mortan sat together inside the northern tent. Bralut was asleep on the fur between them, sucking his thumb contentedly. Both of them had red rimmed eyes, sagging shoulders, and nothing much left to say. They were lost in their own private thoughts, dealing with their grief as best they could.

Rugie walked up with Ralev and they sat down next to them. Both of them looked sad too.

"Latie, why did the horses die?" She asked, putting her arm around the light skinned boy. Ralev leaned into her, looking up at Latie, waiting for her answer.

"Rugie, twins are always smaller when they are born. They are smaller and weaker than regular babies are, and need more attention and care from their mothers." Latie began, finding it a little easier to talk than she thought it would be.

"Do you remember when Bectie was born?"

Rugie nodded, but Ralev just stared and listened.

"She was born too early, just like the twin horses were. Remember how Fralie had to keep Bectie with her all the time at first, how she couldn't even put her down except to change or bathe her? Remember how long it was before Bectie got big enough to act like a regular baby?"

Rugie smiled through her red eyes, and nodded, remembering it all well.

Latie paused, gathering her thoughts before going on.

"If the mother horse had lived, she might have been able to have kept them alive. All babies need their mother's milk, especially at first, and we didn't have any horses milk for them. If we had horses milk, they might have made it, just like Bectie made it." Latie wiped a single tear off her cheek.

"So how can we ever raise a small horse without it dying, we don't have any horse milk." Rugie asked.

"We can't raise a baby that needs milk still, but we could raise a young horse that is a little bit older than a newborn." Latie answered, enjoying the thought of trying it all again one day. She had always wanted a horse of her own, just like Ayla had.

Mortan perked up, considering all that Latie had just said. It was making more sense now, and he felt excited about the possibilities she posed. Mortan had also seen the strangers riding on the backs of the horses at the summer meeting, and like every other kid there, had seen himself riding horses one day too.

Bralut rolled over onto his stomach, and Latie reached down and patted his back and got a burp for her efforts. Ralev grinned, and burped too. Rugie smiled, and pulled him closer.

Latie smiled at them both.

**********

Danug slowed at the sound of the low growl, it came from somewhere out in front of them off to their left. It didn't sound all that far away, but sound carried differently at night, it was just really hard to tell. He cocked his head, trying to get a better fix on it.

The night was really dark, cloud cover had blown in all afternoon cooling off the hot afternoon nicely and the moon above was just a faint glow through the dark clouds. They had napped away a good portion of the late morning and into the early afternoon, and been walking upriver at a pretty quick clip ever since.

Ludeg put his hand on Danug's shoulder, and whispered. "I think we've found Brug's bears."

The waterfall, Danug thought, that is the other sound. No wonder every sound is so hard to pick out. Danug just nodded, his eyes searching the darkness to no avail. Bears in the dark, I can think of a lot of things I'd rather deal with, he thought with a rash of chill bumps spreading over him.

"Well, I don't want to be any where near them." Danug said softly. "So now what?"

"Good question." Ludeg whispered, not liking this situation either. He considered the dangers at the river and compared them to the dangers of the woods. When he looked at it that way, the decision got little easier

"Maybe we could..."

**********

'...I threw the first spear and let the cord unwind, the end of it was tied to my belt. Then I dropped the rest of the cord and picked up the second spear and coil as fast as I could and straightened back up, took aim and threw it.' Brug signed, explaining his morning duck hunt to the other hunters, with Branag and Brenan looking on.

'The second spear spooked the rest of them, and they all took off. That or the other ducks saw me at the same time, I didn't duck back down behind the bushes after the second cast.' Brug signed with the confidence of an old, experienced hunter, but he still retained the enthusiasm of his youth. His dark eyes shown with the pride and excitement of the hunt.

Brenan and Branag followed along the conversation well enough. Brug was signing a little slower, probably for their benefit, at least most of the time. When he got excited, he signed more rapidly, but it wasn't intentional. They missed a lot of the subtleties of the story, but understood the basics well enough. Brug's accomplishments were indeed impressive, ducks were sharp eyed and wary—tough to hunt under the best of circumstances. To pull off a twin kill had to have been incredibly difficult, and at least a little lucky.

'What did you do different on the first throw?' Crag asked pointedly.

'I stayed low, only popping up over the bush only long enough to cast the spear. When I ducked back down, I held my hand with the cord up to let it unwind.' Brug explained.

Rug grunted, and Troog and Borg nodded their heads thoughtfully. Their interest in the new type of spear increasing dramatically over the past few days.

'The cord didn't get caught up in the bush?' Draag asked, he had his own three gaff tipped spears almost completed and was very interested in learning to be proficient with this effective new weapon. He had seen the results, and wanted to add it to his growing repertoire of weapons and skills.

Brug lifted his left hand up, thumb high and palm facing forward, demonstrating his method. 'I held my hand like this.'

Draag watched Brug carefully, then closed his eyes to picture it in his mind and it made sense to him. He understood, and nodded fo Brug to go on.

Mog-ur watched, this is very interesting, he thought. The urge to hunt with the rest of the men was growing stronger within him, and Mog-ur was planning to begin getting instruction on the new throwing weapons himself soon. He wondered what other Clans would think of his hunters. Learning from such a young hunter with so little experience, would never even be considered in the mainstream of normal Clan hierarchy.

Ooga tugged at his beard, and he caressed her thick, wavy hair gently. She was nodding off in his lap again, and the old holy man felt her breathing beginning to get more regular. The contentment the little girl gave him by cuddling with him on such a regular basis made Mog-ur warm inside, it was a very satisfying feeling.

'How keep cord from tangle?' Branag asked, his signs jerky and stiff looking.

"Crag" show how to coil, I kept the cords separated on the ground at my feet.' Brug answered, then looked to Crag.

'You must keep the coils loose and wide, and hold your hand open for it to unwind.' Crag elaborated. 'It is easy for the cord to foul, though, there is always some luck involved.'

'Luck always needed on hunt.' Brenan signed, grinning. He thought of his own experiences with gaff tipped spears and cords. Brenan himself had used them only for fishing, with the single exception of using one inadvertently against the largest cave lion he had ever seen. His face got a little red remembering the frightening incident that took place at his matrimonial seclusion. The cord had been tied to his hand and he had gotten jerked forward onto his face when it struck the lion and he lurched away from him. Brenan shivered involuntarily at the frightening memory.

Ova brought the tea basket around to refill and top off their cups. When she got to Mog-ur, she set the basket down and took the sleeping Ooga from his lap. Mog-ur gave her an appreciative look, yawned, and sipped the fragrant hot brew.

He watched the talk of hunting for a moment, but his mind wandered after a little while. Mog-ur considered the new batch of changes coming their way. Brenan had already tried to explain just how many of the Others were coming, but he had a hard time with large numbers. Anything much over twenty was almost an abstract for the wise old learned man of the Clan, though he wouldn't readily admit it. He found that when he ran out of fingers and toes things got tough to follow.

How much would traveling with such a large group slow them down, he wondered. Will it be hard to keep them all fed? What about the simple things like carrying enough fresh water? These questions and more all ran through his mind, Mog-ur would have liked to have been able to discuss this with other mog-urs. He missed his peers.

Mog-ur looked back at the men around the fire, his own hunters were all exceptionally good hunters and hard workers and he was proud of them. The two familiar men of the Others looked so at home with them that some of the anxiety of before lessened a little. The winter spent with these fine people had caused no undue hardships, in fact the Clan had learned a lot of things that had come in very handy during the journey thus far. Things will be all right, he hoped, and deep down inside he knew they would.

**********

Danug lit his last grass tipped torch from the waning flames of the one in his right hand. It caught quickly, sputtering and popping. Green grass was like that, but it did burn a little slower and last longer than dried grass did. The shadows cast from the small fire danced all around him and Ludeg as they made their way back toward the river through the scattered brush at the edge of the tree line. Danug knelt down and rolled the expired torch on the ground until it was extinguished and left it there.

Ludeg hoped they had gone far enough around the waterfall and the bears, it seemed like they had walked longer than they really needed to—he hoped so anyway. Coming face to face with bears in the dark wasn't a pleasant thought, not at all. He didn't like how the torches diminished his vision, but knew that fire, even a small one would keep most predators at bay.

The night sounds were everywhere. The woods seemed to be overrun by wolves behind them, they heard the yipping and howling often. Owls hooted and screeched, a small cat, probably a lynx, screamed out a few times, and the far away roar of a cave lion all kept their interest. Many unseen animals had scampered away from them, rustling through the leaves and brush; some from close by, some not so close, some hoofed, some not.

It was spooky to travel in the dark, and staying completely aware of their surroundings took its toll on both of them. They were edgy and irritated, and pressed on despite the fact that both of them wanted to stop for the night. It was never a good idea to camp without checking out the surrounding area first though, and that was nearly impossible to do well in the dark.

They heard the soft sounds of the river well before they could actually see it, but they finally got there. It was a lot easier walking along the bank, and they sped up. Ludeg's last torch was done, and he tossed it into the water with a hiss. Before long, their eyes adjusted to the darkness and they could both see better than they had while carrying the smoky torches.

**********

Just before dawn, a light rain began to fall. Ludeg veered from tree to tree as they moved north, using them to keep most of the rain off them. They were both soaked though by the time the sun came up.

A light fog rose off the surface of the river, and the sounds of raindrops hitting the water and the leaves on the trees was a soothing way to welcome in the new day. As the sky lightened up gradually, they were both pleased to see that the cloud cover still covered most of the sky but it looked thin and the light rain should pass through shortly. They didn't look like heavy storm clouds, and for this they were both grateful.

A large pack of pigs took off from the bank of the river from behind a pair of short willows. It looked to be a sow and a slew of yearlings. Their hoofs clacked and popped off the gravel at the water's edge, and they pounded through the short grass to reach the cover of the brush. The old sow stopped just shy of the first bush and spun around to face the two men, clacking her teeth together in a threatening manner while the little ones scampered past her and into the cover of the brush beyond.

The rising sun cast long shadows from the trees, and the pigs were quickly out of sight. The soft, gusty winds were cool and brisk. The light fog dissipated slowly, rising gracefully off the surface of the water and disappearing into the light breeze. The rain petered out slowly as the new day was born.


	17. Chapter 14 Part 2

**Chapter Fourteen**

_Old Friends_

**Part Two**

Brug and Branag moved quietly through the trees, weaving their way back toward the wide, clear feeder creek. Both carried a throwing spear and had a scabbard with more of the same strapped diagonally across their backs. The rising sun was in their faces as they made their way east, and they zig-zagged from bush to bush, crouched low and moving with soft steps. The light, gusting winds blew almost straight at them, masking their scent away from the creek.

Slowing at a wide, leafy bush, Brug peered around the side. He studied the terrain out in front of him, looking for any tell-tail movement. Branag stayed two steps behind him, dropping to his knees. Seeing nothing, Brug looked back and pointed to the next hiding spot, a short low slung willow. Branag nodded, and Brug moved slowly toward it.

Brug pulled the low, leaf covered flexible branches apart and stuck his head inside the shadows. He looked through the leaves and saw something. Brug took a deep breath and waited and watched patiently.

Movement, slow and deliberate, a soft tan color came into focus through the varied greens of the trees, brush, and grass. A head raised up and pivoted slowly, then lowered back almost out of sight.

Brug recognized the species, it was a female spotted deer. He thought for a moment and watched, looking for more movement. There, just past her was another, he saw the twitch of a short tail. Brug backed off and pulled his head back out of the tree.

'Two spotted deer, past the three bushes right of another willow.' He signed slowly with slightly exaggerated movements.

Branag nodded, and waited for more. This is fun, he thought as Brug started to sign again.

'We stay low, you go there, I go there.' Brug pointed first to the left side of the tree, then to the right. 'You stop at first cover, I'll go past them and try to get a shot. If they see me or I miss, they come at you.'

Branag nodded, liking the plan. He ducked down and crawled around the willow limbs that almost dragged the ground. Branag looked out past the tree and could see nothing, he stayed low and moved quietly to a berry covered bush a few steps farther to the east.

When he reached the cover of the bush, Branag sat up on his knees and looked through the top to the south. Before too long, he saw a tiny bit of movement and stared at it until little by little a small part of one of the spotted deer came into focus through the brush. Branag leaned over and pulled a spear from his scabbard and lay it on the ground beside him and got a good grip on his primary spear.

The serene vision before him exploded into chaos, three spotted deer jumped and took off, heading right at him. Branag took a deep breath and got his feet set, pulling the spear up to his shoulder and got ready. The buck was slow, and he saw a spear sticking out from his chest at a funny angle, and the deer reached down and bit at the shaft as he ran erratically.

Branag jumped up and the lead doe saw him and lurched to her left, presenting him with a perfect target. He reared back and threw the spear with a well practiced, powerful cast that took her in the side just back from her shoulder. The spear penetrated her rib cage and pierced well into her lungs. She faltered, turned, and kept going. The buck was slowing and another young doe appeared from the brush just past him.

The two uninjured deer were soon gone, and Branag watched the buck as he went face first to the ground with a thud. The doe he hit was almost out of sight before she fell, but when she did, she crashed head long into the low branches of a willow to the northwest.

Brug had a spear high and ready as he came running through a narrow clearing. He saw Branag smiling, and slowed. Branag pointed over to where the buck fell with his spear, then pointed to the willow, smiling broadly.

'You got buck, I got doe.' Branag signed with his left hand.

Brug lifted his spear over his head, tossed his head back and screamed out loudly in triumph.

Branag grinned, then aped him, screaming out just as loud.

**********

The muffled sounds of the long caravan of people encroaching scared the bears off their chosen spot at the top of the low, rocky waterfall. They all retreated to the far side of the river and disappeared into the woods well before the noisy intruders arrived. All but one, that is. A huge male sat on the opposite side of the river in the long shade of an alder a couple of dozen steps up from the river, glaring at the long line of people as they appeared. He sat up on his haunches, front legs lazily dangling at his sides, watching their every move. The bony remnants of three large salmon littered the ground around him.

The bear was a deep shade of brown, with thick and shaggy fur. He had a narrow strip of blonde hair that started at the back of his head and neck and widened and lightened as it stretched down the center of his back. A fully mature and healthy adult, he was a huge, prime example of his kind.

Talut paused as he pushed the sledge by himself along the short grass near the edge of the river, and admired the fearless beast. The short grass was still a little slick from the recent showers in places, and the smooth runners of the sledge slid along the moist ground much more easily than it usually did.

As often as Talut had been teased and compared to being a bear himself, it amused him to see the total bravado of the huge animal. This was the bears personal domain, he thought, throughout the land he had few natural enemies, and even fewer that walked on four legs.

The bear eyed Talut calmly and defiantly, returning the big man's stare without flinching or blinking. Talut heard the low, deep pitched growl roll across the water, he couldn't help but to grin at the shaggy beast. Without thinking, Talut growled in return. The bear cocked his head, listening to the odd sound.

Talut had a fleeting thought that the bear actually grinned at him when he bared his teeth, and laughed aloud. The serene confidence of the bear made Talut respect him all the more, if that was possible.

Fearlessness was the one thing that Talut admired over almost everything else, and this bear exuded it. Talut pushed against the crossbar of the sledge, and after a brief moment of hesitation it slid forward with a little lurch, and he followed the tight line of travelers on to the south.

**********

The occasional smells of roasting deer on the spit and crackling grain cakes riding on the light breeze gave the weary travelers a sudden boost of energy. The entire line quickened and the increased pace caused them to bunch up through the narrow breaks in the brush and trees. Small, good natured traffic jams developed up and down the line. The shadows were long and cool as the sun dropped off slowly behind them.

The last light of the day slowly faded away. The soft sounds of the slow moving water lapped at the rocky banks beside them, keeping the travelers on track as darkness set in gradually.

Off to the southwest, the soft glow of a fire acted as a beacon, pointing to their destination.

**********

The reunion was incredibly festive. It took a quite a while for the entire band of travelers to reach the loose boundaries of Clan camp, and it slowed up even more as people stopped to greet their old friends. The camp site had been prepared for their arrival, widened and cleared of rocks and other obstructions. Several logs ringed each of the three center fires, and even the perimeter fires had makeshift seating nearby.

Hugs of welcome and tears of joy were common and numerous. The two groups of people intermixed easily, blending into a moving mass of humanity that congregated in moving clumps that gathered and dissipated constantly.

Mortan and Brug walked around greeting people arm in arm. The two youngsters went from hunter to hunter, but when they reached Rymar, Wymez, and Frebec they stopped for a long and in depth, happy conversation.

Nezzie carried Ooga everywhere she went, the young girl clutching on to her like she would never let her go again. She greeted the women of the Clan who shyly stayed near the central fires and continued working on the succulent feast in the making. Nezzie blended right in effortlessly, helping to prepare and offering advice on the various dishes being worked on and generally taking up where she left off many moons ago as the consummate matriarch that she was.

Tulie and the Mog-ur sat on a log near the central fire, Tulie's arm draped over the shorter man's shoulders. A single tear rolled down her cheek as they signed back and forth to each other with obvious affection.

Tressie and Etra carried on an intense conversation while kneeling on each side of Draag, examining the cast on his lower leg. Draag sat impassively, and if a man of the Clan could show embarrassment, it would have shown on him as he waited patiently for the two medicine women to finish their discussion. Being the center of attention was not comfortable for him, but the satisfied look on Tressie's face gave him a greater measure of confidence all the same. Tressie had trained Etra, after all.

Brenan and Branag hugged their mates and slobbered on their baby boys. They made the rounds showing off their young sons to the hunters and even to the women of the Clan. The pride in their eyes as they showed off the fat little boys was more than obvious. The men of the Clan seemed particularly interested, poking and a few even holding the boys. They saw future hunters, and welcomed them as such.

Talut was everywhere. Tasting and sampling the dishes being prepared, chatting and mingling with the women, and finally being pushed out of the cooking area by his smiling mate for being such a nuisance. He went on to mingle with the Clan hunters, and picked up Brug and lifted him up to eye level for a huge bear hug that was returned with bone surprising strength.

The arduous task of setting up the long, narrow traveling tents went quickly and easily with all the willing, helping hands. The camp grew and filled out quickly with all the additional humanity, and settled out peacefully in the flickering light of the fires.

Vincavec and Matera had dropped their packs and stood off to the near edge of the camp beside the northern most perimeter fire to watch. The scene before them was as odd as anything either of them had ever seen.

Neither of them had ever had any direct, personal exposure to anyone of the Clan before. Never having even been close enough to them to see closely the differences that made them a separate species of humans. It was obvious now why they had always been referred to as flatheads though, the specific shapes and structure of their faces and heads attested to that well enough. They both observed the scene quietly for a while, studying and taking it all in.

Matera was a bit awestruck, and a little more than slightly uncomfortable about the whole situation. Everything she had ever heard and all she thought she knew about flatheads was rapidly evaporating before her very eyes. It all seemed so surreal that her confidence actually wavered.

Vincavec pulled Matera closer with an arm around the slightly taller woman's waist, his own thoughts were running basically parallel to hers. How could I ever believed that these people were animals, he asked himself incredulously, watching the interactions between them and his fellow travelers. His thoughts suddenly changed to a misty vision from deep within his mind as he stared and studied the unusual face of one of the men of the Clan. Blurry memories of a misty vision of an old, crippled man of the Clan. Vincavec shuddered involuntarily and Matera felt it and hugged him a little tighter against her. He took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes tightly shut for a moment to try and regain his composure as chill bumps covered him in waves.

When Vincavec opened his eyes again, something strange began to dawn on him, and he stared at Tulie and an old man of the Clan as they sat side by side on a log. It took a little bit, but all of the sudden he recognized that some form of communication was happening between them. The hand gestures! It had been invisible to him before, but now he saw it, now he saw it all.

"Look, look at their hands." Vincavec whispered, his voice trembling with excitement. "See what they are doing with their hands."

Matera hadn't really caught on to it yet, but now she watched and concentrated on the movements that took place before her. It dawned on her as well, suddenly and completely. How very strange, she thought, watching the odd gestures as the people conversed. Both of them had been told all about this near silent language, and even been showed some of the specific signs and how they were made, but now that they saw it in use it was absolutely unnerving.

"They really do talk with their hands, I don't think I really believed it before, but look at them." Vincavec said softly.

"They aren't animals, that's for sure." Matera answered, almost thinking out loud. "Everything I've ever been told about flatheads is bunk."

"I think you're right." Vincavec gave her a hug, then went on. "Should we go and meet them?"

Matera smiled and leaned down to give Vincavec a quick kiss on his tattooed cheek.

"Absolutely, this should prove to be quite an enlightening experience."

Vincavec melted as he usually did whenever Matera smiled at him like that. A tightness developed in his leggings. He had a sudden urge to drag her off in the woods and have his way with her, right here and right now. It took all the willpower he possessed to simply take her arm and begin walking to the center of the camp, but he managed reluctantly.

**********

The feast went on for hours, well into the night. Fresh food put on the fires were tended and devoured as soon as they were cool enough to eat. Baskets of tea were consumed and more brewed. Platters piled up and were cleaned and put away or refilled almost constantly in the flurry of activity at the far edge of the main fire.

Children nodded off one by one, and were carried into the tents and settled in for the night. People congregated at all three fires within the camp, sitting and catching up with all the happenings from their time apart.

In no time, it was almost as if they had never been separated at all.

**********

A large congregation was gathered around the central fire, and the conversation was ongoing.

'...the Clan long ago moved farther east to get away from these aggressive little people of the Others, they were known to us as the 'Eastern Savages.' Mog-ur signed, Tornec sat beside him on the log in the flickering firelight translating his words as best he could for those whose knowledge of the language of the Clan was more limited.

'The way "Dann-uh" and "Lud-dak" describes the people they encountered matches the descriptions of the legends of old.' Mog-ur continued. 'These dark haired people raided and attacked the Clans of old whenever they came upon them. Killing and decimating entire Clans as they moved southwest.'

Mog-ur paused to allow Tornec to catch up.

'The 'Eastern Savages' were many, they usually traveled in large groups. They had many strange weapons. Some were long, sharpened leg bones and sometimes mammoth tusks that they used to slash and to stab with. They had long, thin spears with sharp bone tips.' Mog-ur looked to Danug and Ludeg sitting nearby. 'Did you see any of these odd weapons?'

Ludeg answered while Danug listened while Tornec caught up with his translation.

"I didn't really notice, I saw the threatening looks they gave us more than anything else." Ludeg signed as he spoke, but Tornec translated anyway, adding more meaning and nuance for the benefit of the Clan. Ludeg signed well enough to be understood, but not nearly as in depth as Tornec was able to.

Mog-ur nodded, understanding.

"I saw spears with carved bone tips, but mostly I saw angry, mean looking faces." Danug added with a chuckle.

'Legend has it that these people did not make permanent homes or settle in caves. They were always on the move, even in winter. It is said that they liked to follow herds of wandering reindeer.' Mog-ur went on. 'No cave was safe from their sudden attacks, ever. It is very fortunate for "Dann-uh" and "Lud-dak" that they were not attacked. It must have been either a small band of them, or most likely they were a scouting party for the bigger group. This is a good thing, or you probably would have been attacked and killed.' Mog-ur finished, looking at Danug and Ludeg.

It got very quiet for a while around the fire. No one of the Mamutoi were familiar with these 'Eastern Savages', save one.

"I have heard of these people." Wymez said, not bothering to sign as he spoke. "Though I never came across them on my journey, I was warned about them by one of the camps I visited on my way back home."

Tornec translated.

"It was hard to understand at the time, this camp of people we stayed with and I had no common language. But the warning was clear, stay away from any strangers if I came upon any of them." Wymez looked to Ranec as he went on. "I had a toddler and a real want and need to get back to the lands of the Mamutoi at the time."

'The Clan kept moving north and east to stay clear of them, and eventually no one reported seeing them anymore.' Mog-ur signed. 'They were mostly forgotten over time, some of the trepidation of how the Clan feels about the people of the "Others" probably comes from our memories of these 'Eastern Savages'.

When Tornec finished catching up, Mog-ur went on.

'It would be wise for us to stay alert, these are mean people. Merciless and savage...'

**********

A few wispy clouds blew in during the night, creating a bright halo around the nearly full moon. Stars shown through between them and the brightest of them glowed like bright pebbles on the outskirts of the slow moving, wind blown clouds.

The majority of people had long since retired for the evening, but most of the leaders and some of their mates still hung out at the central fire. A few more of the more curious stayed up as well.

Guard duty had Draag and Ludeg paired up on the eastern side of the camp, and Troog and Druwez mirroring them to the west. The outside perimeter fires burned bright, and received plenty of attention as needed.

Salen and Thorec put the finishing touches on two new sledges at the southern edge of the firelight. With all the helping hands, it hadn't taken very long at all to put them together.

Talut sliced off a piece of deer meat and covered the haunch back up with the skin before returning to his seat at the fire. Nezzie elbowed him as he sat back down, and Talut grinned at her chewing a mouth full of tasty venison. Ooga reached over from her place in Nezzie's wide lap and tugged on his flaming red beard. Talut held out the thin strip of meat and Ooga grabbed the dangling end of it and took a bite, her eyes glistening in the firelight. They shared the rest of the tasty snack.

Nezzie smiled at the two of them, and cuddled Ooga a little tighter as she chewed the last bite. The very presence of the young girl filled a huge void that Nezzie had struggled with ever since the Clan had left at the end of last winter. She hugged her again, and felt a slight cramp in her lower belly.

Ooga felt Nezzie wince, and lifted her hand and asked a question with concern on her face. 'Am I hurting you?'

Nezzie smiled and nodded her head no, then patted the stocky little girl on the back. 'Have baby inside, you never hurt.'

Ooga's eyes widened, and she signed something too fast for Nezzie to keep up with. Seeing her mistake, she signed again, much slower this time.

Talut watched the second set of signs carefully, scrunching his eyebrows in concentration. What did she just say, he asked himself in disbelief, then watched the little Clan girl carefully as she repeated her signs.

'You are having a baby?' Ooga signed again.

"Nezzie!" Talut asked loudly. "Nezzie, are you pregnant?"

Every set of eyes around the fire focused on the two of them, it got suddenly very quiet.

Nezzie grinned. Well, that's not quite like I wanted to tell him, she thought as she looked at her red faced mate and grinned.

Nezzie's grin told Talut all he needed to know, and he smiled like he had just killed a mammoth all by himself. Nezzie grinned at his smug, pleased look.

"Woo hoo!" Talut leaned his head back and shouted again. "Woo Hoo!"

Everyone still awake started laughing, and more than a few heads poked out of the tents to see what was going on. A few of the onlookers even had spears in their hands.

Talut jumped up to his feet and began doing an exaggerated dance around the fire. He kicked his knees up high and threw his head and shoulders back, and then forward again in a strange looking high stepping rhythm. His huge, agile body twisted and contorted as he danced his strange dance. Talut's arms flailed out in exaggerated motions, adding to the oddity and strangeness of his movements. It was as comical as it was different. Through it all, the smile he had smeared across his face never wavered.

Vincavec was all smiles, and slapped his hand against the side of the log keeping time. Brenan and the Mog-ur joined him, and watched Talut dance.

On his third trip around the fire, Talut slowed and veered back to Nezzie with a surprised looking Ooga still in her lap.

Talut grabbed them both and picked them up and spun around hugging them tightly to his hairy chest. Can life be any better than this, he wondered through teary eyes, then gave a silent thought of praise and thanks to Mut before setting them ever so gently back down on the log. His deep green eyes sparkled with tears, but the smile on his face looked permanent.

**********

Relaxing on the choicest log at the main the fire, Mog-ur and Vincavec were in the midst of a deep conversation. The seating logs were puller together in a long Vee shape, spreading out around the fire at a safe distance. Brenan and Latie sat next to Matera at Vincavec's side. Tornec was busy translating from directly across them.

Vincavec was enthralled by the older man, and hung on his every word. There had been so much he had wanted to ask the old Clan man from the spirit world, but never had the chance. Vincavec was busy making up for all that it now, and more.

Matera watched it all with great interest, she was starting to grasp the magnitude and even some of the complexities of this odd unspoken language. She watched Mog-ur as he signed, and listened to Tornec's words, trying to put it all together in her head. This is fabulous, she thought, totally incredible.

"...the trance of the root is so difficult to control, especially at first. Though your physical body isn't really there, it is terribly painful within your own mind. This is a terrible distraction until it is overcome, an awful feeling of helplessness."

As Tornec translated, Mog-ur lifted his heavy eyebrows up in interest. Matera was enthralled by the story too, listening intently. Mog-ur compared what he was being told to all the memories he had of past discussion with his peers concerning the sacred root.

"What scared me the most about that place is how everything there seemed so real, except for me. When I went there the first time with Old Mamut and Brenan, a man of the Clan actually walked right through me, he never saw me or felt me at all. It was terrifying." Latie said, signing as she spoke with one hand. She had her other hand on Brenan's bare thigh, and squeezed it from time to time enjoying the closeness.

"The scariest part for me was trying to get to and break the surface of the water—I could see it but it was like it got farther away the harder I kicked for it. I thought I was going to drown, I have never held my breath for so long, it was like I was suffocating." Brenan added, he also signed with one hand, holding the sleeping Bralut against his chest with the other.

Mog-ur listened closely, he was aware of most of the feelings they spoke of, and his curiosity on any subject of the spirit world was vast. His own knowledge of the sacred root was limited to his memories of the experiences of other mog-urs, he had never had the opportunity of using it himself. Very few of his fellow mog-urs had any direct experience with the root, but a chosen few had. He knew he couldn't, or rather shouldn't try it by himself, but these people of the Others had successfully used it. Mog-ur paid close attention as Vincavec continued. His curiosity couldn't have been much greater.

"Once I got acclimated to this strange place of the spirits, it became a little easier to control." Vincavec took a deep breath, feeling the chill bumps raising the light colored hair on his arms at the memory.

Matera felt the chills on her own arms as well. She had never been able to get Vincavec to talk much about his experience with this root. His memory of it was hazy and confused, he had told her every time she had asked.

"In that place, the crippled Mog-ur of the Clan seemed omnipotent, all powerful. Like he could do anything, it was strange because he signed to us but I could actually hear his words in my head like he was speaking."

Tornec caught up.

'The ways of the spirit world are often very deceiving, but there are realities there amongst the deceptions.' Mog-ur signed, wanting Vincavec to continue. Being the perfect listener came easily to the old man, he knew when to add to the conversation just enough to keep it going.

"I find this to be true also, there are even deceptions in simpler things like metaphysical travel and searching." Vincavec went on. "We tried to find you all on a search a moon or so ago, but I find it very easy to get lost if I am not familiar with the lay of the land. We had to turn back before we were able to find you, I was too afraid I would lose my sense of direction. It is a frightening proposition to lose your way in the spirit world, I've always been told that if you don't return on your own you may be lost forever."

Tornec translated, and the discussion continued.

**********

For two groups of people who were very used to traveling, this dawn brought confusion and chaos even over the simplest of things. It took quite a while to get their possessions packed up and ready to move out. Little differences in how each group woke up and broke camp came to light, and everyone knew it would take a little while before they gained a proficient measure of efficiency as a single group. Even the first meal was awkward, and the women seemed to get in each others way and bump into each other as the first meal was prepared.

It was still fairly early in the morning when they finally got underway, but no where near as early as either group was used to striking out. This time the long line of humanity was longer and wider than ever before, though they lost little of the speed that they had grown accustomed to traveling once they finally got moving.

The river rose up and began to change colors as they traveled beside it throughout the day, spilling over it banks in more than a few places. The clear water turned milky tan and completely impossible to see into. Seasonal rains from the north swelled the river, and sped up the rate of its travel. One feeder creek careened well past her shores and made for a time consuming, muddy detour and crossing.

They traveled on steadily until the sun reached the tops of the tallest trees to the west, then searched out a clear area to make camp for the night. This campsite they decided on was a quite a little walk up from the muddy riverbanks. As usual, with the woods so close by, firewood was abundant and easy to gather.

The tents were set in a curved line facing two hastily made, large fire pits ringed with rocks. Three more perimeter fires were set up on the far outskirts of the clearing, and provisioned for the night. The camp bustled with activity as everyone pitched in to get all the chores done.

Talut and Danug went out in search of a large willow for the raw materials they needed. They wanted to build two more sledges to take away some of the burdens that the women had to carry every day. They had enough to do in keeping up with the children, and both men figured it might help speed up the pace they could travel if they lightened their loads. Druwez and Salen went with them, axes in hand.

Frebec and Branag went out with Brug and Mortan on a scouting and hunting foray. The boys led the way, and the older men followed and watched their stalking technique with an appreciative eye. These two young hunters had all the skills, unpolished at times, but very effective.

Mortan held up his hand, and Brug stopped beside him, looking to where he pointed. Through the tall brush to the east, a pair of light colored shapes moved through the tall grass. The boys watched, and began to move forward silently and slowly.

Frebec and Branag held back, squatting down out of sight to let the boys hunt.

They split up, circling around the stand of tall bushes in a slow arc. When they got close, both boys pulled extra spears out of their scabbards, holding two extras loosely in their spare hands. With their small stature, when they bent low to advance, Frebec and Branag lost sight of them completely. Both men thought of what a great advantage it was to be so small, getting closer to your prey was much easier.

Frebec saw a quick movement through a small gap in the cover, then another from further to the south. More quick motions from both locations, and Branag saw some of them too. Both mem watched as a huge gaggle of geese took to the sky with a flurry of heavy wings and honks. Branag grinned at Frebec, and they stood up and walked toward the tall brush.

Frebec jumped at the sound of Brug's guttural cry, then grinned when Mortan cried out as well. Branag chuckled beside him, smiling at the familiar sounds he had missed this spring and summer. By the time the men got closer to the scene of the hunt, the boys emerged from the brush with three fat, white geese between them.

Branag was not surprised at all with their success, and neither was Frebec. Both of them were as proud as they could be, the skills the boys showed was uncanny. Uncanny and consistent.

Mortan held up the single goose he carried when he saw Frebec and Branag walk into the open out in front of them. Both boys trotted toward the two men, satisfied looks on their faces.

As the four of them walked back to camp, the cool breeze picked up in swirling gusts. The sky overhead darkened as a wide, tall thunder head moved in over them. The wind was cooler now, and it wasn't just because the sun was beginning to set.

**********

Bright flashes of lightning lit up the dark sky, and the booming, rolling thunder shook the ground. It was deep into the middle of the night, and the guards took cover under trees on the outskirts of the camp after running around stoking up all the fires. The rain started with an initial wave of light showers, then the real storm kicked in.

The rain fell in a hard, constant sheet for several hours. Two of the perimeter fires were completely snuffed out, and the other three smoked and popped as they struggled to stay alive in the deluge. Between the two main fires, the tripod of stew collapsed to the ground, spilling the rest of the stew into the mud. One of the two new sledges that had been put together during the course of the evening slid sideways into the center tent with a thud.

A bolt of lightning stretched all the way across the sky in a crooked, bright line. The following thunder shook the trees. Rivulets of water ran all through the camp and even into the tents. The storm continued.

**********

The storm drenched the camp off and on well into the afternoon. There was no point in trying to get underway, so they decided to stay another night. Small fires were set up inside the tents to help dry out and smoke the hides, but the ground was wet and muddy everywhere.

Several men went out and gathered pine needles and leaves to cover the ground inside the tents. It helped to make for a better surface to put down the wet sleeping furs on, but it was a long, uncomfortable night for everyone.

**********

The caravan started out early the next morning. The sun was bright in an nearly clear sky, and the winds were brisk and gusting. It still smelled like rain on the winds.

Moving up and away from the swelling river on up to higher ground to get out of some of the thick mud and slick grass, they walked along the edge of the thick woods. Jozen and Thorec led the way, clearing some of the brush out of the way with hand axes for those behind them to pass through easier. Druwez and Ranec followed closely behind them, helping to clear the way as well.

The new sledges were piled high, and all of the sledges had tent skins and sleeping furs draped over them to allow them to dry out from exposure. Many of the women carried no burdens now, other than the smaller children and babies. Overall, the pace they were able to walk picked up a little. The slick ground allowed the sledges glide easily over the grass and the skids seldom sank very deep into the mud in the bare spots.

Around mid day, they stopped for a quick meal. A few clouds were beginning to blow in again from the southeast, but thus far they were thin and separated. It didn't appear to be another storm brewing, not yet anyway.

The skins and sleeping furs were rotated out, the wettest piled up on top to try and get them dried out in the breeze. The tent skins got stiff as they dried and it would take some time and quite a bit of work to get them more flexible again.

**********

The tree line began to thin at the woods edge throughout the afternoon. The gaps between the trees opened up a little, but now many of the trees were scattered well out into what had been much clearer ground. Some of the evergreens past the woods edge were incredibly large and tall, they were mostly pines, with a few maple and birch intermixed among them.

The brush got thicker and more abundant and the travelers were forced to slow their pace to get through it. Short thick bushes and shrubs with bright colored berries or clusters of small flowers popped up everywhere, in singles and small congregations, they barred their way at every turn. Wymez and Rymar joined the other four already working to clear the way, but is was still slower going than before.

Animal tracks were all over the place in the mud and soft ground. Especially tracks of a multitude of different species of deer, both large and small. Wolf and hyena tracks were abundant as well, and several signs of a few large cats were spotted. Bears and pigs also populated the area, and squirrels and rabbits all called it home too. There were even signs that a herd of horses or onagers had come through recently. This was a rich land, teeming with life.

When they came to a small clearing beneath two huge, tall pines they decided to camp beneath them for the night. It looked to be a cool night, but was still pretty muggy from the dampness still rising up all around them from the rains.

It was decided to set up the traveling tents and close them off and build smoky fires inside them. This technique should get them all the rest of the way dried out and treated with smoke to help loosen them back up. The campers would sleep out in open under the canopy between the two large pines on the ground, soft with layers of pine needles.

Instead of a single center fire, three large fires were built in a large, wide triangle with a smaller fire at the center. They would bed down around the central fire. The women cooked off all three of the large fires, and the variety of foods they fixed made for a small, delectable feast. Nezzie was everywhere, supervising and helping out. Little Ooga was her constant shadow, often attached at Nezzie's broad hip.

Rug and Tornec gathered up the guards for the first shift, and got them coordinated. They walked the perimeter together, enjoying the cool, peaceful evening. Sweat rolled off both men in the high humidity.

Talut got several helpers together and went out to gather supplies to build a couple more of the highly efficient sledges. Vincavec and Gralon hunted for a willow for the runners while Talut and his helpers chopped limbs off a short birch tree for the cross members.

When they got all the supplies back to camp, they started fitting pieces together for the new sledges. Talut held pieces together on one side and Vincavec matched him on the other while Danug and Manuv started tying the cross braces in place with layers of thin leather straps

Brug and Mortan sat huddled together at the outside of the northern fire with Frebec and Crag. Mortan studied Brug's gaff tipped spears, this was definitely something he was interested in. The boys made plans to make more of this type of spears together. Troog and Borg soon joined them, spreading out and working on their own versions of the bone tipped spears that were already near completion. Frebec went off to one of the sledges to hunt for a supply of assorted bone that they had brought with them, and more that they had picked up along the way.

Another group of men gathered at the western most fire. Wymez, Branag, and Brenan discussed methods and objectives and started hammering out the details of a new design of a long, thick flint blade. Sharp on only one side and tapered, like the blade of an axe, it was considerably longer and much more delicate than even a small hand held axe would normally be. The tools they worked on were long, much longer than a normal blade of any kind would be with a graduated, gentle curve to the blunted points.

Druwez and Thorec joined them carrying several cut birch limbs the length of his forearm. They started scraping the bark off the limbs that were a little thicker than a throwing spear. Rymar and Ranec worked on cutting a slot into the end of the short poles, carving them out slowly with specialized sharp flint tools that Ranec normally used for carving his masterpiece Muta's.

Salen and Crag came over and sat down with them and started heat treating the first two stripped limbs, holding them over the fire but well above the flames. They worked the limbs over heat carefully, little bits at a time.

The work on the various projects went on for the better part of the evening, and well into the night in some cases.

The smaller children all got a real kick out of sleeping outside the tents, and most of them were up much later than usual. Even the dampness of their sleeping furs didn't prevent a good nights sleep.

The moon, barely past full, shown brightly in the dark sky as thin clouds blew in on the high altitude winds.

**********

The camp got an early start, striking out just after dawn. The overnight smoking of the three tents had greatly improved their flexibility and suppleness, and they were now completely dry.

Wymez had two of the new tools complete, and Ludeg and Thorec made good use of them right away. The long, curved flint points were secured to the ends of the short poles set into the notches and tied with sinew. They were used to slash the bottoms of the bushes and cut them off at close to ground level. The tools worked well, and being the consummate tool makers that they were, Wymez and Branag already had plans to modify the design of the tools slightly to improve their performance even more.

The long day went by without incident.

Vincavec and Salen took a side trip back to the west to the river to check out the water levels and the situation there. It was a relatively short hike, and they could hear the river well before they saw it.

They found the river still rising, spilling out well past its banks on both sides and the water was a very dark shade of brown. More than a few animal carcasses floated by while they stood at the edge of the muddy water, swollen and bloated. A few salmon littered the edges of the fast moving water, caught up in the tangles of trees and brush, helpless and dying. Weasels and wolverines scoured the shorelines for the easy meals the rushing river provided. A huge brown bear patrolled the far bank, several fish on the ground behind him, one still flapping his tail.

The ground was still pretty waterlogged, but the sloppy mud of before had dried out considerably. Vincavec and Salen didn't stay too long before heading back inland, then cut southeast. They caught back up with the travelers at a wide swollen pond in a short valley of heavy woods a little while later in the morning.

It took the better part of the afternoon to work their way around the pond. The land was wet, soggy, and almost a marsh in the low lying valley. The trees here thick bodied and short, with the lower limbs stripped bare of their leaves having been all eaten back by deer and moose.

When they finally cleared the small rise at the far southern end of the pond, the land before them began to change as it dropped off gradually before them. The tree cover thinned even more, and the low brush diminished somewhat as well. The grass grew taller and thicker, and a herd of bison grazed just within sight on the far southeastern horizon.

They stopped to camp for the night in the shade of a robust, wide spread oak. A couple of hours of daylight was left, but it was such a perfect spot they couldn't resist.

The cloud cover had increased throughout the day and only a few patches of blue sky remained. The winds blew sporadically, gusting strongly, then disappearing all together for short periods of time.

The oak provided a wealth of dead fall for the fires, and camp preparations went quick and easy. This left a lot of time to work on all the projects they had in progress, and groups gathered to get busy.

A light shower fell just before sunrise, and they broke camp and moved on earlier than usual. It dissipated toward mid day, and finally stopped early in the afternoon. They trudged on through the wet grass and steaming humidity.

**********

Late in the afternoon, a thick row of trees was visible to the east and stretched southerly for as far as they could see. The ground sloped gently downward, and the grass grew taller with thick, stiff blades, reaching up to thigh high and beyond. This slowed their progress, and they formed a thinner line that stretched out much longer than they were used to. The long, thin line they walked in aided in compacting the grass to make it easier for those that followed. The sledges pressed the grass down pretty well.

Ludeg and Salen led, and Wymez and Rymar kept the rear guard. It was difficult to see very far through the occasional stands of even taller grass, and they all felt a little hemmed in and nervous. The grass finally started thinning as they got closer to the trees, and the line broke up and got thicker again as the walking got easier.

**********

They reached the tree line just before dark, and got a rude surprise. The trees bordered a wide, swift moving river. The muddy water spilled well past its banks and up into the tree line.

"So much for the short cut overland." Talut said, laughing.

"This is the crossing I've been worried about." Wymez said, looking over the muddy water. "She joins with the other river downstream, and it is a huge marsh for many days walk until they completely join and become one river."

"I can only guess what it looks like after they get together." Tulie observed.

"We're trapped." Vincavec said, smiling a wry grin. "We are stuck between rivers."

"All right, let's camp here for the night. In the morning, we'll scout upriver for a place to cross—it has to get easier than this." Talut said, grinning as he pointed to the swollen waterway.

Tulie just grinned, hoping that her sibling was right.

**********

Five men took off upstream at daybreak. They ran at a steady trot, stopping often to look the river over. Little changed throughout the morning, the river was wide, muddy, swift, and looked deep.

They all carried back packs that were lightly loaded with enough supplies to stay out for a couple of days if need be. All of them were well armed, with scabbards of spears strapped across their backs.

Around mid day, they stopped to eat. Talut carried the cooked meat in his back pack, and passed out a packet of pork to each man. They sat on a short, rocky bluff looking out over the water.

"At least there is plenty of wood around to make a raft." Brenan said, signing as he spoke. He stared up at a pair of tall birch trees to his right that grew so close together that it was hard to tell whose branches were whose. A pair of squirrels chased each other through the high limbs, stopping to chatter at each other every now and then.

'Can we build a raft big enough to carry us all?' Rug signed, looking at Branag.

'No, must make many trips.' Branag answered, signing with his free hand.

"That will be fun." Danug said with a laugh, and Talut joined him.

**********

Just before dark, the river started to turn to the east. The ground on the opposite shoreline raised up a steep slope of a rocky hill, pushing the muddy water around it. The river narrowed, and the spot looked promising. They decided to make camp for the night, and explore it further in the morning.

Danug and Rug speared a pair of fat hares they flushed up from the edge of the brush a little way upstream. The others gathered grass and piled it up under their sleeping furs and built a small fire pit. They had the hares on the spit as the sun went down. The fresh roasted hare went well with the grain cakes that Nezzie and Etra packed for them.

Brenan took the first watch, walking slowly around the camp. The river sounds were a distraction, so he walked slowly and kept his ears pealed. Brenan was tired, and he had to keep moving to stay sharp and alert. On his fifth round, he decided to range out a little further so he wouldn't get complacent out of boredom.

Walking in the dark through the short, thick grass was hard to do quietly. Concentrating on being stealthy, Brenan walked farther north than he really meant to. The light of the fire was a little farther away than he liked it, so he cut back east. He walked back over to the swollen river's edge before going back to camp to stoke the dwindling fire. His eyes were used to the dark now, and as he passed under the wide, low slung branches of a rather tall willow something caught his eye to the northeast.

Brenan stopped and looked harder, concentrating on the sight. Now what, he thought to himself as he studied the faint glow of several separate fires in the distance through the trees.


	18. Chapter 15 Part 1

**Chapter Fifteen**

_**Brown Water and Savages**_

**Part One**

A single wolf howled from somewhere across the river, not too far away but slightly to the south. She was answered shortly thereafter by a pair of wolf songs from much further away to the east. The night stilled again as the high pitched songs faded slowly into the eerie silence of the darkness.

Brenan tossed a hand full of loose dirt onto the small fire, the low burning flames popped and sputtered at the intrusion. He did it several more times until the flames were completely smothered. Thick wisps of smoke rose up from three places, intertwining and dissipating in the soft, cool breeze.

Talut and Danug were in the midst of a snoring contest, Danug was currently winning by a nose. Rug competed with them every forth or fifth breath with a rumbling grunt of his own, and Branag wheezed steadily with his head buried face down in a soft sleeping fur.

Brenan reached over and shook Branag's exposed thigh gently. The large man jerked and lifted his head up slowly, the end of the fur hanging on his face for a moment before falling away. He squinted, and looked around in the dark until he saw Brenan beside him.

"My watch already?" Branag's voice was soft as he peered up at Brenan through tired, bloodshot eyes.

"Ssshhh." Brenan shushed him, then whispered. "We have company."

Branag sat up quickly, but quietly. He was fully awake in an instant. "What did you see?" He asked, rubbing his eyes and became suddenly aware that the camp fire was out. Branag grasped his spear from the ground beside him, alert and wary.

"Help me wake the others, but keep them quiet, then I'll tell you all."

Branag nodded, and stood up. Together they woke up Talut, Danug, and Rug. Brenan whispered and signed in the darkness, explaining the camp fires he saw off to the north through the trees.

"...I couldn't see anyone moving around, they are too far away to see clearly and they are partially covered by the trees. I didn't want to take any chances of them seeing us, so I put out the fire. We have to find out who they are before they have a chance to slip up on us." Brenan explained.

"It has to be those short folks that were sooo friendly." Danug whispered with more than a hint of irony lacing his voice.

"If it is, I can only imagine how glad they will be to see us again." Branag added.

"We need to know for sure." Talut said with a measure of finality.

"Maybe we can kidnap a woman for you this time, Danug." Branag whispered, laughing softly.

**********

Branag and Danug carried only their weapons, and walked along the edge of the tall grass quietly. It was easy to see the glow of the fires now, and the closest fire was in plain sight. They ducked behind a tall clump of knee high, thick bladed grass to watch.

"There, see that guy?" Danug whispered, pointing to a shadowy figure that came in and out of sight near the closest fire. It appeared to be no more than a wandering shadow, slipping in and out of their field of vision.

"Yeah, I see him. Must be a guard." Branag whispered back. "Let's find a good spot out of sight and wait for dawn."

Danug nodded and they moved slowly out from the grass and toward the cover of the trees closer to the river. They found a good hiding place behind a pair of wide, short bushes and got comfortable for the wait.

The first light of dawn told them more than they really wanted to know. The camp in the distance came to life at first light, with a tremendous amount of movement, and a lot of bodies. It was a huge amount of people, all with dark, straight hair.

**********

"It's the short, dark headed people all right." Branag said.

"This can't be good, there are a lot of them. I mean a bunch, there were people everywhere." Danug added.

"Let's get back to camp," Talut began. "Branag, you and Danug stay here and keep an eye on them and see if they are coming this way. Whatever you do, don't let them spot you though, stay hidden and quiet."

"If they come this way, head back to camp in a hurry." Brenan added, pulling all but two spears for the spear thrower out of his scabbard and handing them to Danug.

Talut and Rug stripped their scabbards of all their extra spears and handed them out to the two large men. Then the three of them took off to the south just inside the cover of the trees and into the rising sun at a fast jog.

Rug stopped at the base of a short pine and turned around. Branag watched as the short man of the Clan made a familiar sign before disappearing into the trees.

'Walk with Ursus.'

**********

"...we have got to get across the river as quick as we can." Talut told the story to a gathering of almost all the adults. "That group could be coming this way, and we won't have much time if they do."

"What do you think, a raft?" Vincavec asked, rubbing the bottom of his bristly chin with his fingers. He had shaved off his beard a few days before, and the fresh stubble itched.

Brug and Mortan walked up from the river from the south carrying a large, fat giant hamster and a small rabbit. Talut smiled at the boys, then turned his attention back to the discussion at hand.

"Unless anyone has a better idea, yes." Talut said, looking back over at the young hunters.

It got quiet as everyone tried to think of an easier way over the swift, brown water. Their options appeared to be rather limited, they had a lot of belongings to get across with them.

Tulie looked out over the group, no one spoke up. "Let's get busy, then."

**********

Brenan and Druwez lugged several heavy stones between them in a folded aurochs hide. They made their way up the muddy slope and back over to a clear area where Wymez and Rymar sat chipping away, forming new axe heads. There were only five full sized axes in the entire camp, and as long as it took to fell a tree, more were definitely needed.

Talut and Vincavec worked around the base of a tall, thick bodied maple. On opposite sides of the tree, each chopped four or five strokes then took a small step forward and continued.

Borg and Draag took turns with a heavy bladed axe nearby, chopping at the base of another good sized maple. Each man made about twenty whacks, then stepped back and handed off the axe.

A few steps away from them, Troog and Ludeg chopped away on a like sized pine. The chipping never stopped, and small pieces of wood and bark flew in all directions. Men stood around ready to step in and relieve the first to tire, and several of them had small hand axes and worked on smaller limbs and dead fall.

Manuv wrapped a thin strip of heavy bison hide around the freshly knapped axe head. He secured it to a thick birch limb as long as his forearm. Tying it off, he started with a second layer of wet leather. Manuv flinched, a piece of flint hit him in the chest and fell into his lap. He looked up to see Brenan grinning at him, he couldn't help but to smile back as the young man went back to work on the large, grey nodule.

Nezzie supervised the efforts to get everything packed up and ready to go. She did her best to get everyone to pack up their belongings in as small and tightly wrapped bundles as possible. They had a lot of stuff though, having all the sledges in service had allowed them to gather and keep more than they really needed along the way. The thinning process was hard, no one wanted to get rid of much. Nevertheless, a small pile of discarded items grew slowly between two of the sledges as the women packed.

Ranec sat at the fire with Ralev. The young blonde headed boy watched as Ranec held the axe head above the flames in the heat. Ranec turned the head over every few minutes, quick drying the wet leather straps. Frebec joined them, carrying another dripping axe. Ralev reached out and put his hand on the handle, and helped Frebec hold it over the flames. Frebec grinned at the boy who smiled back up at him. Ranec chuckled, watching the two of them work together. Ralev was such a pleasure, Ranec thought, such a fine young boy.

The tall maple cracked loudly and swayed slowly as it started to fall. Talut jumped back as it fell toward him, falling slowly at first, then rushing to the ground with a huge whoosh of snapping limbs. Men and women scattered, backing away from the falling tree. As soon as the tree was still, Vincavec started chopping on the far end of the tree top. Several others joined him and started hacking away the protruding branches.

Talut took his heavy axe and joined Borg and Draag, they were almost halfway through the thick trunk of the hard maple. The ground around them was littered with stark white chips of wood. Draag moved out of the way, handing his axe off to Borg as Talut started chipping away. The slow dance around the tree continued, wood chips flying.

**********

The first six logs lay on the ground near the edge of the muddy water on a small flat piece of ground. Talut led a group of men and women dragging another fresh cut log into the clearing from the south. They dropped the thick log next to the others.

Ranec walked up to them, carrying two more completed axes. Gralon took one and Thorec took the other and they walked back to the south where the trees were still being harvested. Most of the others followed, but a few stayed at the clearing.

Salen came over, carrying several long loops of braided leather rope. He dropped them onto the ground at the end of the logs, and looked over to Talut.

"That's all I could find, it won't be near enough."

Talut looked down at the supply, Salen was right, they would need a lot more rope and straps to assemble the raft.

"Tulie," Talut began, looking over at her as she was taking a measure of the logs laid out on the ground. "We need more rope and straps to put the raft together, can you get a crew busy on it, please?"

Tulie looked at the meager supply of rope, and nodded at her sibling. She walked back up to the camp and called for Tressie, Tricie, and Silvie to come and help. Latie and Matera came over as well, and they started setting up an area to work. Tulie started rummaging through one of the sledges, and pulled out a folded, full size bison hide and found another under it tied up around supplies of some kind in a tight bundle.

The bundle was folded clothes, and she set them back up on the sledge and carried both bison skins over to the others. They formed a pair of groups to slice the hides into thin strips, and handed them over to Latie and Tricie who started braiding them into two ropes.

Mog-ur and Vincavec sat off to the side with Tornec and Crag. Mog-ur was explaining how they had crossed the river at the beginning of their journey, and the shape of the raft they had built. Tornec translated.

Vincavec smoothed the dirt in front of him, and used his finger to draw a crude raft in the dirt. Mog-ur shook his head, then reached down and corrected the drawing by adding a few extra lines of his own. Vincavec wrinkled his eyebrows in thought, scratching his itching chin again absently. He smiled as it dawned on him, and he drew in several circles in the dirt behind the lines Mog-ur had added.

Mog-ur nodded and Crag wrinkled his own brow in deep concentration. The hunt leader was starting to have a hard time following the discussion as it pertained to the crude drawing in the dirt.

'Men kicking and pushing the raft, here, here, and here.' Mog-ur signed with one hand while pointing with the other.

Vincavec listened as Tornec spoke the signs aloud, and he smiled at the ingenious method the Clan had used. It looked to be a great idea, he thought, and began looking for any flaws in the method.

Crag reached over and added a single line to the drawing, then looked up at the Mog-ur with a questioning look on his face. Mog-ur looked at him, then back down at what he had added to the figure in the dirt.

Vincavec grinned, and reached down to draw more small circles next to the line Crag had drawn. Crag looked at him and nodded. Mog-ur nodded too, then looked back at Crag and signed. 'Good, more people to kick, faster to get across.'

Crag nodded, then sat back with a great sense of satisfaction.

"Talut!" Vincavec called out, looking back over at the river bank. "Talut come look at this."

Talut walked over to the small group of men who all looked so pleased with themselves. He stopped briefly at the women making rope, and smiled at the progress they had already made. Tulie made a long cut through the heavy hide as Silvie held the skin taught, the sharp knife slid easily under Tulie's strong grip. Talut grinned, then walked on over to the men.

**********

"What are they doing?" Danug whispered, peering between the two bushes.

"I don't know." Branag answered, watching intently.

They watched as a group of the short, naked men waded out into the muddy water where the river started to turn in a gentle arc more southerly. The water quickly reached waist deep a dozen steps into the river, and they could see the fast water pushing against them as they struggled to keep their balance and footing. The men all carried the short poles with the long tapered flint ends. Another seven or eight of them stood on the bank, waiting and watching.

Forming a loose semi-circle, they started wading back to the shore. A man in the middle of the line suddenly jabbed his weapon into the water. He struggled with it for a moment, then pulled it back up to the surface with a silver salmon impaled on the end of it. The man next to him handed off his own weapon and reached over to pull the fish off the short spear with both hands by the mouth. The stocky fish struggled and flopped in the dark water as the man started to turn around in a slow pirouette. He picked up speed slowly, and on the third revolution threw the fish toward the muddy shoreline.

The fish hit the water a step or two away from the bank, and one of the men gathered at the rivers edge hopped in to grab him and pull him up and out of the water. He scrambled ashore, slipping in the mud and two other men grabbed him and pulled him up onto the muddy ground.

In the river, another man speared a salmon.

"Wow, they made that look easy." Danug said softly, admiring the tenacity of the men as they fished.

"Look over there." Branag whispered, pointing back up toward where the camp fires burned.

A large mixed group of men and women spread out and started through the grass a few steps apart. There had to have been over twenty of them, Branag thought as he lost count of them again. They used their short spears to slap the tall clumps of grass as they walked slowly in a loose, long line.

Even from where they sat hidden behind the two bushes so far away, Danug and Branag could here the yelps and whoops of the hunters.

Two men took off from each end of the line, jogging ahead of the slow moving group and circling around in front of them. They all had longer spears with more normal sized flint or carved bone tips, from this far away it was hard to tell which.

The four men took up blocking positions and planted their feet, waiting and watching. As the beaters got closer, the four spear wielding hunters threw their spears in rapid succession into the grass around them. They pulled a second spear each into place, and two of them sighted and cast them at unseen targets.

Danug and Branag watched as the group scattered into the grass. Before long, they saw that five hares had been speared. Two of the women took them and walked back to camp, and the line formed again for another go.

"These guys are good." Danug whispered.

Branag nodded, and turned his attention back to the river. The ground was littered with silver fish. Another group of fishermen formed at the shore, hopping into the brown water.

**********

The raft started taking shape. The main framework was laid out and tied together, and the floor pieces began at the front of the raft. A pile of floor/cross members grew steadily as workers dragged them in from the south.

The basic shape followed the design that Mog-ur, Vincavec, and Crag had come up with. The two main poles were held five steps apart by a wide cross member that overlapped the width of the main runners by three steps on each side. There were three of them, one at the front, one at the back, and the last one close to the middle of the raft.

"This is the biggest raft I have ever seen." Vincavec said, looking out over the sprawling frame. He tied off a piece of wide leather strap at the front right side intersection of logs. It was the third layer of leather tied up at the same place.

"We will still have to make at least three trips, maybe four." Matera said tossing several straps of freshly cut leather at his feet. "But she is big all right."

Talut measured off a long tree trunk with a piece of leather rope knotted at each end. The trunk would make two cross brace flooring pieces if cut in half, he smiled and tossed the braided rope aside and cut a small nick into the bark of the thick pine with his knife. His upper body was drenched with sweat, and he hefted his large axe and brought it down with a bang. The log vibrated under the assault, and Talut could feel the force of the blow reverberate through the bone axe handle. He whacked it again, his huge muscles glistening in the bright sunlight.

Troog led a small band of three men and two women into the clearing, dragging more logs. He had one under each arm, and even with this heavy load the other men who dragged a single log each couldn't keep up with the stout, determined man of the Clan. It took both women to pull along a single log, but they kept up with the men well enough.

Draag had a newly made axe and rolled a log away from the stack to cut it to length. He didn't fully understand the use of the measuring rope, but he used it to mark the log anyway. When he started chopping, the chips flew in all directions from the extremely sharp flint edge.

Though Draag still favored his injured leg somewhat, his upper body was so strong that it didn't hinder his efforts much at all as long as he kept good balance. The impact of the axe as it dug into the hard wood felt good to him, really good. It had been a while since he had gotten to do much physical labor of any kind, and he discovered just how much he had missed it.

Wymez and Rymar started wrapping a long length of the heavy braided leather rope through the front logs. First wrapping it around the outside pole, they snaked the rope over the first cross brace then under the second. Each time the rope wrapped around the long main poles, they tied a knot before wrapping over or under the next cross brace. Pulling the rope tight and pinching it off to tie it down was a concerted effort between the two men who worked very well together. It was slow, tedious work that was absolutely necessary to keep the huge raft from coming apart. Neither had ever seen or even heard of such a large raft, and they weren't taking any chances on the structural aspects of the construction. The consequences of the raft coming apart would be devastating at the very least, and anything they could do to make it more sound or stronger was well worth their time.

Nezzie and Etra put together a mid day meal, they got a lot of help. The food stores were raided rather extensively from the sledges, food items that were better suited for traveling were the only things held back. A huge skin of stew simmered to the side of the fire, and the spit pole was loaded with thin strips of hamster and rabbit meat. Two large platters of fruits and greens were covered with light skins to keep the insects off them.

All the new axes were seeing heavy use. The small stand of maple to the south was rapidly being decimated, and the pickings there grew thin. Piles of small limbs and leaf covered branches popped up all around the area. Squirrels chattered their displeasure at the workers from the relative safety of the adjoining treetops. A single falcon watched them from an outer limb of a thick bodied pine at the river bank.

By the time they all stopped for a rather late mid day meal, the flooring was almost a quarter of the way finished.

**********

Danug watched the third hunting party of the day leave the wide spread camp from their vantage point in the low, heavy brush. This group had about eight hunters made up of men and women. They wore only loin cloths, foot covers, and carried long, thin throwing spears. A particularly well muscled, short youth led them through the grass heading due west at a fast jog.

"These people act like they are laying in stores for the winter already." Branag whispered, watching the hunters fade away into the distance.

"There sure are a lot of them. I've never seen so many people in a single camp before, outside of a summer meeting that is." Danug answered, looking back over to the constant activity at the river bank.

A spattering of what appeared to be mostly women butchered salmon in the muddy shallows, casting the stripped remains and offal into the water to wash on downstream. All of them looked to be small, with thin, lithe builds. The women were small breasted, and all of them had long, straight dark hair tied back or braided.

Danug counted four fires that burned constantly that he could see through the trees, and another two or possibly three gave notice from occasional plumes of smoke that rose up from beyond the front fires. This was one huge group all right, he could see glimpses of short tents, pointed at the top like they were held up by a single center tent pole. Everything about these folks was odd and different. In all his travels, Danug had seen nothing quite like it.

Branag pulled a few strips of cold, cooked meat from a pouch on his wide belt. He handed one to Danug and they bit into their tough snack as they watched the active camp.

A large group of children with a few adults left the camp coming toward them. They wandered through the grass for a while before veering back east to walk along the river bank through the scattered trees picking up dead fall. Well before they got close to the brushy hideout Danug and Branag crouched behind, they turned back, heavily laden with fresh fuel for the fire.

**********

The flooring of the raft was right at halfway complete when they finally called a halt for the day. Daylight waned and the muddy water of the river called most of the hot and sweaty group in for a bath. It wasn't the cleanest they had ever been, but the cool water did feel good.

The stew from earlier in the day served for a last meal as well, though it would never see the morning at the rate Talut was beating it down. He did have a lot of help, but no one filled more carved bowls than he did. No one ever did.

By the time the guards were set, the vast majority of the camp were already bed down and asleep. It had been a long, hot day. The soft sounds of the river and the popping of the fire were soon the only sounds coming from the tired camp, other than snoring.

Draag and Ludeg walked a slow, wide circle around the camp. With no perimeter fires, it was dark and more than a little eerie. Night sounds popped up all around them, from a soft rustling in the leaves to occasional heavier footfalls that seemed to be just out of sight. A snort from the west, a yip from the south, the sounds never seemed to stop. Both men were on edge and wary and as tired as they were it took a constant effort to stay vigilant.

The sporadic moonlight cast long shadows, and was obstructed more and more by cloud cover that blew in steadily as the night wore on. By the time Druwez and Salen took over the second shift of guard duty, the sky was very dark with heavy clouds.

**********

Branag reached over and shook Danug's shoulder gently, he woke up with a jerk that rustles the leaves.

"Quiet!" Branag whispered, giving him a harsh look. "We got movement, and I think they are coming toward us."

Danug blinked his eyes, and rubbed the sleep from them with his dirty fingers. When he looked through the bush he saw nothing.

Dawn was just beginning to cast a soft glow over the land, and Danug had a hard time getting his eyes to focus very well in the still lingering darkness. The heavily overcast sky didn't help, blurring the horizon with dark clouds. There, on the east side of the camp he saw the movement Branag pointed at, and honed in on it.

The two men watched as the band of hunters came their way at a fast trot. They were two abreast and several men deep. From the angle they approached, it was impossible to tell how many of them there were.

Danug hunched down a little more without thinking about it.

The hunters veered a little more toward the river bank, getting closer with every step. As the line stretched out, their numbers came better into view. Branag stopped counting at a dozen, he never was very good at numbers but he saw enough of them for it to put a good scare into him. He hunched down deeper behind the bush and a little closer to Danug.

"Now what?" His voice was almost to soft to hear.

"Stay still." Danug chided, his heart pounding in his wide chest.

**********

Talut led a group of men and women out in search of trees to cut. The area they worked over yesterday was pretty much stripped of usable material. Downstream looked to be the best place to find more suitably sized trees, and they moved along the muddy bank to the south.

They dropped off in twos and threes as they came onto new potential flooring for the raft and got busy chopping. The cloud cover overhead was thick and kept the heat at bay, the winds were brisk and cool. It smelled like rain, and gave them all a sense of urgency to complete the raft. The river was running fast enough to make for a tough crossing, rain would only make it worse.

Back at the camp, Wymez searched through the last two sledges for more thick hides. They were already running out of leather strips and braided rope, and a lot more would be needed to finish the raft. He wasn't having much luck.

**********

Mortan and Brug were off hunting with Frebec out in the tall grass to the west. They worked their way slowly through the tall stands of grass. Frebec hung back, letting the boys do it their way. They were interesting to watch, working together as well as any two hunters he had ever seen.

The gusting winds came from the east southeast, and the tall grass swayed and rustled, helping to mask the young hunter's movements. The boys walked a few steps apart, veering around the taller stands of grass as they worked their way to the southwest. Animal tracks were fairly abundant in the shorter grass, and more than a few piles of dung were spotted. Mostly, it was signs of deer and antelope, but Brug spotted moose tracks in a couple of places.

Mortan slowed and held his spear out to get Brug's attention. Brug stopped and looked at him and Mortan pointed his spear at a trio of wide, short bushes to the south that were covered with deep green leaves. Brug nodded and veered toward them.

A hare flushed from behind a clump of tall grass and quickly disappeared from sight. Neither boy was fast enough to get a shot off. They moved on.

As they got closer to the three dark bushes, they split up and came in wide from each side. Frebec kept on walking directly at it, walking very slowly to allow the boys to get into better position. He pulled a spear from the scabbard slung across his back and fit it into the spear thrower.

Mortan slowed to pull an extra spear from across his back, and carried it loose in his left hand. Brug already had a spear in each hand. They made eye contact, and Brug made an exaggerated sign. 'Slow and easy.'

Mortan nodded, and started slowly around the far southern side of the brush. Brug mirrored him to the southwestern side. A gust of wind made the bushes sway, the boys stopped in their tracks to watch closely, nothing else moved. They moved on slowly.

**********

Danug lay down flat in the low grass behind the two bushes, Branag beside him. Both men had their knives out and cut hand fulls of grass from all around them, tossing it over their legs and backs to try and soften their profiles. The band of hunters would pass by close to them if they held their current course much longer, too close for any reasonable measure of comfort.

The two men were hidden about thirty paces or so up from the river, and the hunters looked like they were going to pass between them and the waters edge. It was going to be close, and it was much too late for them to move to a better spot. They hunkered down, hoping that the dim light and long shadows would help to keep them from being spotted.

Danug could hear the soft sounds of their footfalls, and the rapid beating of his own heart. He gripped the spear tightly, desperately hoping he wouldn't need it.

Branag took a deep, shuddering breath and lay his face down into the grass. The sounds got more pronounced as they got closer.

**********

The spotted deer and her yearling broke from the cover of the dark bushes, rushing headlong due south. They were close enough for Mortan to get off a quick spear, and though it was a pretty long throw for him, he hit the large doe high in the rear flank.

Brug took off at a dead run toward them, but he was way too far out to throw his own spear.

Frebec pulled his spear thrower up and let fly at the same time Mortan got off a second cast. His spear took the yearling high in the neck just down from the base of his head and the young deer stumbled and snorted, but kept going. Mortan's second spear hit the doe low in the belly just behind her rib cage.

Brug ran as hard as he could, but they were well out of his range and he knew it, and the frustration of it all lent him an extra burst of speed.

The doe veered away from Mortan more to the southwest, but she ran erratically, slowing slightly as the debilitating effects of the spears began to take their toll. She was bleeding heavily, and her energy level lessened as she ran.

Frebec got off another shot, but the yearling was really far away by now and the spear sailed harmlessly over his back and behind him. Frebec scowled and took off running after them, pulling another spear out from across his back as he ran.

Brug caught up with Frebec just past the bushes, and both of them ran on trying to catch up to Mortan who had a sizeable head start. Mortan still followed the doe, wanting desperately to get just one more shot at her.

Frebec veered a little more to the southeast to follow the yearling, but Brug followed Mortan.

Mortan lost sight of the doe, and slowed to look for signs. Brug caught up with him, breathing hard from the run. He spotted a streak of blood on a clump of tall grass, and they moved on slowly.

Frebec picked up his errant spear, and found a blood trail of his own to follow. He came across a disturbed spot of ground where the yearling had obviously stumbled and fell, but more tracks led on to the south.

Brug spotted the doe, and the two boys approached cautiously. She was sprawled out on the ground, weakly biting at the shaft of the spear protruding from her belly. The doe was very weak.

Frebec found the yearling, face down and dead in the tall grass. He nudged him with his foot, but the deer was quite dead. The broken shaft of his spear suck out s hands width out of his neck, at the top of a wide trail of blood. Frebec slipped the spear thrower and spear into the scabbard, and slung the yearling buck up and over his shoulders for the long walk back. He needed to find the boys, though it probably wasn't necessary, he worried about them when they were off on their own.

Brug cut the doe's throat as Mortan stood guard over her. She offered no resistance, already dying quickly enough from the wounds of the spears. Mortan looked around for Frebec, he finally spotted him and waved his arms. Brug saw the yearling over his shoulders and was slightly envious of the incredible long range that the spear thrower gave the older hunter. He wondered if Frebec would consent to try and teach him to use this fabulous, strange weapon. In Brug's world, all hunting skills were something to be sought out, explored, and mastered, little else mattered.

The three of them field dressed both deer, and started back to camp. Frebec carried the yearling while Brug and Mortan struggled to drag the doe through the grass. They had tied her front feet together and slipped one of Mortan's spears between her legs and pulled the deer between them. It was hard, heavy work and Brug's greater physical strength made it hard for the boys to travel in a straight line.

Frebec grinned watching them as they constantly adjusted their direction. They did work together well, he thought. They trudged on.

**********

"That was close." Branag whispered.

"Too close, I almost wet myself." Danug answered. "We have to find a better hiding place before they come back through."

"Right, but let's give them more time to get on away from here first."

"I couldn't agree more." Danug grinned as he continued. "I think we need to find a new place closer to the river."

"Yeah, I feel kind of naked out here." Branag said, looking back to see no signs of the band of hunters that had gotten so close to them on their way through. "Let's go."

**********

Tulie and Latie held the wet, bloody spotted deer hide stretched tightly between them while Ranec used a thin, very sharp flint blade to slice it into narrow strips. Wet leather was difficult to work with, and Ranec was glad for the help he had with them holding constant tension on it. There was no time to cure, de-hair, or further process the skins, Wymez and Rymar needed more leather right away to continue work on the raft. Ranec dropped the long pieces to the ground beside him and the pile grew steadily.

The flooring logs reached three quarters of the way down the long main runners of the raft now, but the last six lay loose, unsecured. Wymez pulled the logs closer together, struggling with the weight and cumbersome bulk of the nearly straight pine trunk. Rymar tried to hold the opposite end firmly against the last secured log, but the gentle warp of the thick pine pulled against him and it gapped away again. Past the six logs, a sizeable space remained unfilled and vacant.

"We need to roll it over." Rymar said, sweat dripping into his eyes, stinging and blurring his vision. "Got to get the warp to work with us."

Wymez nodded his agreement, and tried to twist the heavy log.

The afternoon was hot and sticky and the cloud cover hung thick and low in the sky. All signs were that rain was imminent.

Talut dragged a log back to the raft, his bare chest streaked with sweat and his huge muscles bulging from the strain. He dropped it short of the raft, and took a deep breath as he watched the two older men struggle to roll the log on the raft. Talut walked over and took over for Rymar, grasping the rough end of the heavy pole and giving it a strong, hard twist. The pole slid as it turned, but settled back quickly. Rymar hopped nimbly onto the raft and crossed over to help Wymez push the log back up against the last tied log. This time, it hugged against the other log tightly at each end, though it bowed down some in the middle.

"Thanks, Talut. These logs seem to just be getting heavier and heavier." Wymez said, grinning.

"That or I'm getting older and weaker." Rymar added with a chuckle.

Tressie walked over with a pile of fresh straps of spotted deer hide wrapped over her arm. She smiled at the sweaty men and dropped them onto the raft.

"Can I get you all some water or tea?" She asked, smiling at the two older men across the wide raft.

"How about some of Talut's bouza?" Wymez grinned.

Rymar laughed aloud, but Talut roared.

**********

The band of short, dark haired hunters returned through the grassy flats in the middle of the afternoon. Their approach was nearly silent, and they passed by out in front of the last scraggly trees to the west. They carried two small saiga antelopes suspended between stiff, fresh cut poles on their shoulders, the antelope dangling, tied from the poles at the feet. They moved at a slow jog, quietly through the grass winding their way between the tall clumps back to the camp. There were four men to a pole.

"Well, they are efficient." Danug whispered, watching through a gap in the brush the two of them hid behind. The rushing brown waters of the river ran behind them, and they had set a broken pine log a little taller than Danug at the waters edge nearby. The constant sounds from the river made it harder to hear if anything was approaching, but it was a good place to hide.

"Is that all of them?" Branag asked softly. "I thought there were more of them this morning."

Danug closed his eyes and thought back, trying to picture the band as they passed by them earlier. Deep lines creased his forehead, and got deeper when he scowled. When he opened his eyes to count the hunters, he scowled again.

"You're right, that's not all of them..." Danug began, then flinched as the dry snap of a twig came from behind them. Closely behind them.

Branag looked back over his shoulders to the source of the sound at the same time Danug did, and both large men blanched. Four of the hunters were right behind them, picking their way up the river bank, heading right for them at a fast walk.

Danug grasped his spear, and reached back to shift the clumsy scabbard back across the center of his back. Branag's scabbard lay on the ground next to him, and he got a grip on his own full length spear as he rolled over.

The lead hunter stopped suddenly, twelve paces away, and his eyes met Danug's. The three men following him pulled up beside him, and a brief stare down ensued. The lead hunter's eyes squinted slightly, then he let out a rash of sing-song words that held no meaning for the Mamutoi men.

All four men pulled their lightweight spears up, and Branag and Danug scrambled to their feet, clearing the outstretched branches of the craggy bushes.

"Whoa!" Branag exclaimed, dodging away the spear that flew at him on his left side, while Danug flinched and moved to his own left. Branag pulled his own spear up as a second and third spear came at him.

Danug dropped to his knees and reached out and shoved Branag, knocking him off balance. Branag was off balance and fell hard on his side back into the bush. Danug then turned and sat back up and with a strong twist of his body, flung his spear side armed at the group of men. The two spears sailed harmlessly over where Branag had just stood, the second spear passing so close to his face that he cringed.

The lead hunter doubled over as Danug's spear took him full in the lower belly, his scream of anguish rang out in the stillness of the afternoon. The spear stuck out his back as he spun around and crumpled to the ground.

Branag sat up and threw his own spear, scattering the two on the right. The spear missed between them, but startled both of them into fumbling with the extra spears they had in a pouch that was tied around their waists, butts forward.

Danug jumped up and flung another spear, and caught the hunter to his left high in the chest as he was just about to throw his own spear. The impact of the projectile spun him around and his legs collapsed at the knees and he fell hard to the ground on his face, the shaft of the spear throwing him sideways.

Branag let fly with another spear, and the remaining two turned to escape back into the trees at the river's edge. The spear hit the nearest hunter low in the back, and he screamed out as he fell awkwardly onto his side. The last hunter disappeared into the trees.

"We got to get out of here—now!" Branag said, gasping for breath. He grabbed the scabbard of spears from the ground and pulled another one free.

"Let's see if we can get the last one, come on!" Danug said, and took off after him.

Branag followed, slinging his scabbard over his back as he ran, the spears flopped around until the scabbard settled into place.

They passed the two downed short hunters, writhing on the ground and moaning in agony. When they came to the third hunter, he reached out and swiped at Branag with one of their strange, short weapons. Branag hopped back away from the sharp edge of the sharpened bone blade, then kicked savagely at the arm that swung it. The weapon spun out of his grasp, and bounced on the ground in front of Danug, who reached down and snatched it up as he ran. Danug reached over his shoulder and shoved the weapon into the sheath of spears crossing his back.

They ran through the trees, weaving through and around them at a hard, fast run. There was no sign of the last hunter, but they watched all around them as best they could as they pursued him.

Danug turned to clear a wide, low swept willow, and was instantly spun around from the impact of the spear that took him high in the left biceps. The pain was sharp and he cried out as he fell, hitting the ground on his side and rolling toward the river's edge.

The hunter pulled another spear from his waist, and pulled it up as Danug rolled over and looked up. Danug tried to pull his own spear up as he sat up, but he knew it would be too late as he watched the short man pull the spear back over his shoulder. His arm started forward, and Danug took a deep breath, readying himself for the inevitable, staring into the deep brown eyes of his attacker.

The brown eyes went wide, and Danug saw a spear suddenly appear in the center of his chest, buried deep. Danug watched as his arm came on forward and the spear go air born, but the strength of the throw was severely lacking. The spear wobbled and came at him almost in slow motion, Danug twisted his body and the spear rustled the leaves as it fell into a bush beside him. The twisting motion he made caused his left arm to burn like fire, and Danug looked at the light weight spear imbedded there. He grimaced and sat up as watched as Branag ran over to the severely wounded hunter.

Branag grasped the spear, and shoved it deeper into the dark haired man's chest. The man screamed out once, then was quiet as his dark eyes glazed over. He yanked the bloody spear out of the prone man's body, and was splashed with spattering of dark blood. Branag took one last look at him, then hurried back to Danug.

Danug's eyes were wide, and his upper body was shaking slightly with tremors when Branag reached him. Danug his right hand on the spear, looking confused and pained.

"Let go, I'll help you." Branag said softly as he knelt beside his friend, dropping his spear to the ground. He looked at the bloody spear point that stuck out the back of Danug's arm, and the long, slender shaft at the front. He took the shaft in his hands, and looked Danug in the eye.

"This will hurt." He said, then with a sudden flex of his powerful arms, he snapped the shaft between his hands with a dry pop. Danug flinched and grunted as a huge tear rolled down his cheek.

"Take a deep breath." Branag ordered, then grabbed the spear point and yanked it smoothly through his heavily muscled arm. Danug's eyes rolled back in his head at the instant stab of blinding pain. His body started to lean forward, and Branag held him up with his left hand and spoke softly.

"That's the worst of it, hang in there just a little longer."

Branag pulled his knife out of his belt, and held out the bottom of his tunic tightly out in front of him. He cut off a wide strip off the bottom of it with a single, long slash of the sharp blade. He dropped his knife, then wrapped the wide strap of leather around Danug's arm and tied it off as tightly and quickly as he could.

"We got to go now, you ready?"

Danug looked up at him with partially glazed eyes, and nodded. Branag stood up over him, and reached down and pulled him to his feet with his right arm. Danug was a little wobbly, and Branag put his right arm around his chest and helped steady him. They moved on, slowly at first, then picking up speed a little as they cleared the dead man. Danug felt waves of pain roll over him, every jarring step felt like a knife stabbing deeper and deeper into his wounded arm.

There were faint voices from behind them, the strange, lyrical sounding language sounding sinister as it grew ever so slightly louder—and closer.

The two men followed the river's edge to the southwest, staying in the clearings as they encountered them as much as they could. Danug began to get a grip on the intense pain, and soon needed no assistance. They sped up.

**********

The last four logs were still loose and unsecured, Rymar and Wymez had run out of leather to tie them down with—again. The rest of the raft was complete, though both men would have liked to have more straps at their disposal to strengthen some of the weaker looking flooring intersections.

"Now what?" Rymar asked, grinning. He was tired, it had been a long, hard afternoon. With the heavy cloud cover, and no real breeze to speak of, everyone sweltered in the damp heat.

"I don't know, but this raft still needs work." Wymez answered, looking at what he considered to be several weak spots.

"It certainly won't do for her to come apart, that's for sure."

"I don't like it, she's just too big." Wymez said, looking at the overall size of the huge raft. "Shouldn't we have more structure on the length, it looks so flimsy to me."

Rymar studied the bulky body of the raft, and saw what Wymez was worried about. It did look flimsy, and way too bulky to be strong enough to carry a heavy load.

"I think I'd like a second opinion myself." Rymar concluded, and looked back over at the gathering at the fire. All over the small camp, people were busy consolidating belongings into smaller bundles. A pile of discarded items was growing slowly. He saw Talut, Tulie, and Vincavec off to the side, deep into a discussion of their own.

"Well, let's get them in on it." Wymez said, looking at the trio. "They're never short on an opinion."

Rymar chuckled, and they walked to the fire together as the first raindrops began to fall.

**********

Danug stumbled on an exposed root and fell roughly to his knees. Branag was at his side in an instant. He looked back behind them, and listened carefully. They had heard so sounds of anyone following them in a while, but both feared they were coming. A rustling in the leaves of the trees above them got their attention, and they relaxed as they felt the first of the raindrops.

"You all right?" He asked, looking into Danug's pained eyes.

"Like it really matters---help me up." He mumbled with a weak grin.

Branag got behind him and lifted Danug back to his feet, pulling him up by the armpits. The wrap around his left arm was slick and dark with blood. Danug felt a little light headed, and the ground swayed before him as he got his balance and started out again.

Danug swayed slightly, and veered to his left as they walked on through the tall pines, Branag saw this and sided up to his right. Danug put his arm over Branag's wide shoulders for support, and Branag wrapped his arm around his waist to help him further.

They moved on.

**********

Talut was at the front of the huge log, and he could see the camp through the diminishing light to the north. He and three other men pulled it over the slick grass one tough, heavy step at a time. A light rain still fell making the log slide a little easier, but as long as it was it was still quite a job getting it back to camp. Talut was tired, he had worked steadily all day using his powerful body to do more than his fair share of the heavy lifting and toting.

This was the last log, once secured, the raft would be complete. The only problem they had was a severely diminished supply of leather to tie it up with. Every spare skin had been sliced into straps and used on the raft. All that was left were the tents, sleeping furs, sledge skins, and hanging skins for the poles, and of course, their clothes. It was a real problem, with no adequate solution presenting itself thus far.

Ludeg took a hunting party out as the rain began to fall late in the afternoon. They worked their way back to the river to the west, south from there, then back across the tall grass lands. No luck, the only sizable game they saw was a huge brown bear on the opposite shore of the western river. When they crossed through the grassy flats they spotted a pair of horses in the distance that they were never able to get even remotely close to. They returned empty handed.

A large hanging skin of stew simmered at the edge of the fire, being constantly cooled and diluted by the light rain. Daylight was almost gone, and it grew dark quickly with the heavily overcast sky. A large pile of trimmed limbs and branches served to keep the fires well provisioned, but it was mostly green wood and now it was all wet as well. It burned hot once it got going, but popped and smoked a lot. Outside it wasn't bad, but when used in the fires inside the tents, it made for a long tough night with all the smoke it put out.

With the coming of the rains, the temperature had dropped considerably and the breeze was more than a little cool. Ludeg brought the hunting party in just after dark, flustered, tired, and hungry. It was still very early in the evening when the first watch was assigned and they soon found themselves alone with the wet, gloomy night.

**********

Danug slipped in the mud, and Branag almost couldn't hold him up. They stopped to get their balance again before moving on. Danug's left arm was dark with blood all the way down to his hands, the wrap around his injured biceps was soaked completely through.

The night was so dark that they navigated mostly by keeping the soft sounds of the river close to their left as they went back southeast toward camp. Branag was afraid to stop, even for a short rest. He knew that Danug needed a healer in the worst kind of way, and soon. As tired as they were, they continued to push on in the dark at a fast walk. Both men were absolutely exhausted, and Danug grew weaker and weaker from the steady loss of blood. The rain and cool breeze helped, but not much.

**********

Troog and Salen were on guard duty as the first signs of dawn began. The light rain had stopped for a while shortly after their took over the watch, but the sky was still dark with heavy clouds. Salen walked the southern perimeter, and Troog decided to go one more time around the northern end of the camp.

In the dim light, Troog watched out over the tall grass, hoping to spot any grazers that may have moved in close during the night. He walked out well past the rough boundaries of the camp, and into the tall clumps of grass. Sweeping his eyes slowly and meticulously over the horizon, he thought he spotted movement along the tree line to the north. Troog froze in place and watched carefully.

The dark shape disappeared for a while into the cover of the trees, swallowed by the long dark shadows. Troog had three spears in the sling across his back and one in his hand, he turned the spear absently in his hand as he watched. There, he saw it again. It looked to be only one shape, but it looked big. Maybe a bear, he thought excitedly.

Salen heard the gruff low pitched sounds that roughly mimicked the chattering of ground squirrels, and turned quickly to look for Troog. He was nowhere to be seen in the soft light, so Salen slipped back through the quiet camp and up to the north. He spotted Troog out in the grass a little way, looking back at him with an occasional glance. Salen whistled like a thrush, and Troog looked at him and made a sign to come out to him slowly.

Troog had lost sight of the large dark shape again in the dim morning light, and his eyes swept the area he had seen it last in all over again. It was still very dark, and the shadows of the large trees were almost black. He spotted it again just as Salen reached him. Troog pointed toward the movement in the shadows with the point of his spear.

Both men got a good grip on their spears, hunkered down into a low crouch, and started slowly and quietly toward the trees side by side.


	19. Chapter 15 Part 2

**Chapter Fifteen**

_Brown Water and Savages_

**Part Two**

"We got to stop—just for a little bit." Danug said gasping for breath.

"All right, but just for a bit." Branag answered, slowing to a stop under a tall pine.

Danug slowly went down to this knees, then fell forward into the wet pine needles breaking his fall with his right hand. He landed on his side and rolled over onto his back. Branag knelt beside him and looked at the wrap on his left arm in the dim light. It looked all black, even his hand. Danug took a deep breath and closed his eyes, his face was a mask of pain and exhaustion.

"Listen, we have to be getting close. Do you want me to go on and bring back help?" Branag asked, worried that Danug may finally be too weak to go on.

"No, just let me rest for a little, then I can make it." Danug's voice was no more than a whisper. "I can make it."

"I know you can, Danug, you're as tough as Talut." Branag said, sitting down on the wet ground beside him.

Danug grinned through his pain, gaining strength from Branag's words, believing them.

**********

Troog slowed and held his spear out across Salen's chest. They both came to a stop, peering into the dark shadows. Past the nearest stand of short alders and a single wide limbed willow, they saw the subtle silhouette of the dark shape. They hunkered down to watch, waiting to see which way the animal would move next.

'Lets split up, push to river.' Salen signed crudely.

Troog nodded, and used his spear to map out their approach. Salen caught on, and they moved apart and on into the shadows of the trees.

**********

"I'm feeling better, you ready to go?" Danug asked, sitting up and feeling a dizzy spell come over him as he spoke. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut until the wave of dizziness passed.

"Sure, we'll go slow." Branag said, standing up and reaching down to take Danug's good arm. He pulled him up, marveling at the weight this young man normally carried so effortlessly.

They got situated together, Branag supporting him as before, and moved out from the dark patch of shade. It took only a few steps before they regained their rhythm, and Branag led Danug around an alder and into the dim sunlight. They came face to face with Troog, spear held high and ready to throw. Salen suddenly appeared to their left, and both men rushed over to meet them.

Salen took the spear from Branag, and Troog got under Danug's left arm to support him and they all walked back toward the camp.

**********

Deegie and Nezzie worked over a large basket, making a batch of morning tea. Little Ooga set heating stones into the coal bed of the fire with bent wooden tongs, they were the only ones up and around at the camp. Nezzie looked up to see the four men coming up from the north, and gasped when she realized that one of them was obviously injured.

"Oh great Mother! Deegie, go get Brenan—be quick!" Nezzie exclaimed, and rushed toward the men with Ooga following behind as fast as her short little legs would carry her.

**********

Branag explained what all had happened while Brenan and Tressie worked on Danug. It seemed like the entire camp was suddenly there, crowded all around them and listening intently. Danug passed out once when Brenan pulled the blood soaked wrap off his arm, the sleeve of his tunic had stuck hard to the skin just above the gaping wound. Matera made up a strong pain numbing potion, and when Danug came to he drank down the bitter tasting elixir without complaint.

Tressie studied the wound, not knowing what to do next. The only wound she had ever treated that was this bad before was the terrible chest wound of the Mogur so long ago. She had used the glowing ember of a spear shaft to singe the damaged flesh. Tressie wasn't sure if that method would work without dire consequences on a muscle mass used as much as an arm was though. She had to think more about this whole idea.

"There is only one way to stem the bleeding and not ruin the muscles of your arm." Brenan said to Danug, Tressie looked up at him with a questioning look on her face. "I am going to have to tie it all back together, just like sewing up a hole in your tunic."

"Like Ayla sewed up Jondalar's leg?" Danug asked, his face pale and white.

"Just like." Brenan grinned, trying to look more confident than he felt. "Don't worry, she told us all about it and how to do it at the meeting of the Mamuts. I know what to do."

"Well, what are you waiting for then?" Danug said with a strong show of bravado.

"Matera, why don't you get him a skin of Talut's strongest bouza." Brenan said, then looked to Fralie and continued. "Fralie, may I borrow your sewing kit?"

Vincavec came over with a steaming bowl of pale yellow liquid and sat down next to them. He had several squares of soft rabbit skins under the hot wooden bowl.

"Talut, these 'Eastern Savages', that's what the Clan calls them, may very possibly be coming after us." Branag said.

"We still have more to do to get the raft ready, we ran out of leather for straps." He answered, pulling at the bottom of his red beard in thought.

"Well, you have to do something. They could get here any time—we got to get across the river." Branag said forcefully.

"Why don't we just cut up the smallest tent and be done with it?" Wymez offered. "Those hides are thick and strong."

Tulie grinned at him, liking what she was hearing. It would be easy enough to make a new tent. "Wymez is right."

"Let's just work off one end of the biggest traveling tent, that way we will still have three tents." Rymar added. "That one is a hassle to put up anyway." He went on pointing at the longest tent of the three.

Talut stood up, glad for something to do while Brenan and Tressie worked on Danug. He didn't really want to watch what they were going to do the first son of his hearth anyway. Talut could get a little squeamish around bloody humans, especially ones he cared so deeply about.

"Let's get busy then." He announced. "Break down the tents and get all the supplies down to the raft, we got work to do people."

The crowd thinned out with a new sense of purpose as Matera came back with a large bladder of Talut's famous bouza. She sat down and poured Danug a cup while Vincavec and Tressie used the soft rabbit skins soaked in the yellow liquid to cleanse Danug's arm through the elongated hole in his tunic.

Danug was starting to feel the effects of the pain killing potion Matera had given him, but the bouza tasted good and went down much easier than the bitter medicine had. He was on his third cup by the time Fralie returned with her sewing kit, and felt pretty good. Really good in fact, and he was telling Brenan to go ahead and sew him up, he was really looking forward to it.

Brenan grinned, Danug was slurring his words and he was getting hard to understand. Vincavec looked over at Brenan and whispered. "One more cup and he'll be ready."

Tressie pulled Branag up into a sitting position and gently pulled his arm out of the sleeve of the tunic, then helped him to lay back down. His green eyes were bloodshot, and he had the funniest look on his face that she couldn't help but to smile at him. Danug noticed how pretty Tressie was, and wondered to himself why he hadn't ever noticed her in that light before.

Danug was still thinking about Tressie, and what a fine mate she would make some lucky man one day. Suddenly he yelped from the sharp pain that stabbed at him from deep within the muscle of his arm. He looked up at Brenan and Vincavec, giving them a hard scowl.

"Oh Danug, be tough. This won't take long." Vincavec chided him, challenging his ability to endure pain like a man.

Tressie pinched the muscle tissue together while Brenan pulled the sinew through the pink flesh with the thread puller. He tied it off after each stitch between Tressie's fingers, with a double knot. It took four stitches on the front side muscle of his arm, and six on the back side.

The skin itself took five stitches on each side, Tressie sewed up the skin while Brenan watched and coached her along. Danug jerked slightly with every poke of the thread puller, but he didn't complain. He did watch Tressie's every move though, and the confident smile she gave him every now and then did as much to reassure him as the pain numbing bouza did.

When she finished, Matera and Vincavec cleansed the wound with more of the warm yellow liquid. It barely seeped fresh blood now, and Brenan stopped this seepage all together with some dried strands of seaweed he got from his medicine bag. They finished up by wrapping a layer of soft hide soaked in the yellow liquid around the layer of seaweed, then another dry layer around it and tying it off.

Danug was really glad when they were finished, he was tired of trying to mask his pain in front of Tressie. He dozed off thinking about her, he pictured her swimming in a clear river with him, nude. She looked really good in his dream, and his leggings poked up in the crotch in his sleep.

**********

Wymez and Rymar worked on one side of the raft, while Talut and Ludeg worked on the other. They had placed the new long logs on top of the flooring logs, directly above the longest frame logs underneath. It would make for a good curb to help keep things, or people, from falling off the raft once it was in the water.

It only took about two steps worth of leather from the end of the tent to yield enough straps to finish tying the rest of the logs together. Tulie cut another ten straps for tying things down, and carried them over.

The raft was incredibly heavy and bulky. It took every adult in the camp to push it out into the water's edge, and was difficult even then. The river was deep just a few steps out the water reached Talut's hips, but the strongest part of the current was farther out in the stream. Talut and Branag stayed in the shallows, holding the raft steady against the light currents on the north side, while Gralon and Thorec held it back on the southern side. It was a constant effort to keep the raft from drifting out into the main body of the river.

They started loading the raft, two of the fully loaded sledges were first. They got them out onto the raft and situated them in the center, nose to tail. Tulie tied the bottom of the runners to the flooring logs. Then they piled on loose bundles, first on top of the already loaded sledges, then all around them. When there was only room left for one line of people on each side, they stopped.

Brenan and Vincavec helped Danug down to the raft, and got him situated comfortably at the back of the raft. He had the runners of the rear sledge to hold on to.

The raft filled up with people, the first load was all women and children on the center platform. It held thirteen of them in all, counting Danug in the back.

The protruding ends of the cross braces were manned with two people on each side, front, center, and at the rear, all of them were men. They walked the raft out away from the shoreline, the men on the front and middle cross braces kicking their feet to propel them forward. The four men at the rear lost their footing quickly and started kicking themselves.

The raft slowly picked up speed, and gradually got caught up in the stronger currents. It began to turn slowly downstream against all their efforts to keep it straight. They made slow, but steady progress getting across, but they were going further and further downstream at the same time. The brown water was strong and swift.

"Come on, kick harder!" Thorec yelled, his legs burning with the constant exertion.

The others took strength from him and they all kicked harder. The opposite shore got closer, but it was still a good distance away.

**********

Brenan and Vincavec stood and watched the raft disappear down river, a small crowd gathered behind them. It looked like it was pretty controllable, though the currents were obviously swift. It was an odd sight, seeing the heads and shoulders of twelve men on the outsides of the body of the raft kicking it along. It was rather proficient, they made slow but steady progress across as they were washed downstream.

The last thing Vincavec could see was Matera holding onto the tie straps with one hand and the little girl Tonie under her other arm. Jaycie was behind her on the raft, holding her other child Tramen under her free arm. As outgoing and friendly as Tonie was, she agreed to ride with Matera on this exciting adventure. Jaycie didn't want to leave one of her children behind, so it had all worked out well. Matera needed to go on the first trip anyway, just in case her talents as a healer were needed on the other side.

Tulie supervised the next batch of supplies being readied for the next trip. The last two sledges were at the waters edge, loaded to the tops. Loose bundles started piling up around the sledges, and more were on the way. There are just so many of us now, she thought to herself watching the activity all around the camp. Twenty five people are gone crossing the river, and look at all of us left here, she was absolutely amazed as she thought about it.

Rymar set guards out in the grass, and at the edge of the trees. All the guards were very heavily armed and well within sight of each other. Rymar didn't trust only watching to the north and along the river banks, he put guards out to the west and south also. He put Ludeg in the center position looking north, and Jozen in the middle of the formation looking to the south. He took the western most position himself, being able to see Ludeg and Jozen from his vantage point.

There was no sense trying to hide, so none of the guards were camouflaged or hidden in any way. If anyone came at them, they would need to all fall into place at whatever direction the intruders came. It would all have to be done quickly, stealth would not come into play, only well armed hunters would. Back at camp, extra spears were stacked up in piles within easy reach, with one shout of warning, men and women alike would pour out to meet them if needed.

**********

The raft turned more southerly as the current pushed it along. One good thing about a raft this size was that it was very stable, even if it was bulky and hard to turn because of the heavy load. With the direction it spun, only half the men were able to kick toward the shoreline. It was enough, they had passed the strongest of the currents and Borg and Crag soon found the pebble covered bottom some fifteen paces from the bank. When their feet got a little better grip, the raft turned slowly back to face the eastern bank and Troog and Tornec found their footing soon thereafter. The four of them man handled the heavy raft into the shallows, and got a lot of help when the second row of men could touch bottom. By the time Talut and the back row could touch bottom, the raft was almost to the muddy bank.

It didn't take too long to get everyone and everything unloaded. Talut and Branag helped a still woozy Danug off the raft and found him a comfortable spot to sit down and relax. The ground was dry a few steps up from the brown water, and they found themselves in a cluster of short to medium sized willows. The tree cover continued for as far as they could see, though most of what they saw past the willows at the waters edge were taller birch and maple. A symphony of birdsongs welcomed them ashore.

"All right, Nezzie, you and Matera find a good place to make camp while we go back for a second load." Talut began, then looked over to Druwez and Crag as he continued. "Druwez, you and the men of the Clan will need to help them get the tents set up and keep a lookout in case some of the 'Eastern Savages' are on this side of the river already."

Druwez nodded, a serious look on his young face. He turned and watched Tornec sign to the Clan to explain what Talut had just said. The men and women of the Clan nodded, and quickly got to work stripping the excess bundles off the two sledges so they could be more easily pulled.

Talut turned back and looked over the rest of the men that had all taken the kicking duty on this first crossing. "I think we can get the empty raft back across with only six of us. Ranec, Troog, Salen, Frebec, you all come back with Branag and me and we'll take her back across."

Everyone nodded and went to work, there was a lot to do—for everyone.

Talut and his five helpers all hopped back in the water and took up their positions, each by himself on one of the outboard runners. They walked the raft upstream in the shallows staying as close as they could to the river bank where the current was the weakest. The outcrop of rocks loomed out before them where the river turned, they trudged on.

**********

"There they are!" Mortan called out, Brug at his side on the grass above the drop off to the brown water.

A large group gathered at the short bluff, watching as the six men pushed the raft north in the shallows. They could all see Talut's grinning face, even from that far away. The raft seemed to go in slow motion, but before too long they were well to the north of the camp area.

Mortan and Brug watched their every move, behind them most of the rest of the camp went back to work getting ready to load the raft when it got there. Deegie nursed Brydag while she stayed with the boys to watch.

Brug pointed and grunted, then signed. 'Here they go.'

Mortan watched intently as Talut and the others all stood as tall as they could, then bend over and started pushing as fast as they could go toward the center of the swift river. They gained a lot of momentum, and as Ranec and Troog lost contact with the bottom, they laid out and started kicking. Then Salen and Frebec in the center of the raft followed suit, then finally Talut and Branag were kicking with the rest of them.

The raft moved out into the brown water and veered out into the currents. They made steady progress crossing at a wide diagonal, and were constantly being pulled downstream. They passed by the camp two thirds of the way across, and kicked harder when they saw where they were. A little further downstream, they felt the muddy bottom and brought the raft into the shallows. After taking a breather for a little bit, they started back upstream to the camp, one slippery step at a time. By the time they pushed the heavy raft into position at the landing, they were all worn out.

**********

This time, they got more people packed in around the sledges. It helped that Latie and Deegie both had infants, and they were able to get more children on board as well. All the children except for Brug and Mortan made it on this trip, and the two young hunters wanted to stay and help keep watch anyway.

The men took a brief rest, then gathered themselves up for the task ahead. Regan and Stolie both added their youthful strength and stamina to the men in the water this time around, and the raft was launched.

**********

Mamie and Tressie stacked bundles into a nice, neat pile in the short grass overlooking the brown water. They both looked up as Tulie led a short line of people toward them with the last load of supplies. Aba and Inca carried a pole between them, its hanging skin bulging with belongings. Roxie and Mekan toted another pole with a similar lumpy hanging skin swaying gently between them as they walked heavily, trudging along. Manuv brought up the rear with two bundles under on arm and one large one nearly dragging the ground beside him.

Tulie caught a glimpse of movement downstream as she leaned down to set the bundles on the ground next to the neat pile. The front corner of the raft was just coming into view from the gentle turn in the river to the south, being pushed along the far bank in the shallows.

"There they are." She said with a slight hint of relief in her voice.

**********

"All right, here we go!" Talut called out.

All six men shoved as hard and fast as they could, pushing the huge raft back out into the main body of the river. Ranec and Troog lost touch with the bottom first and stretched out in the cold water to start kicking hard. By the time Talut and Branag started kicking from the rear of the raft, they had picked up quite a head of steam and were quickly approaching the center of the river.

The currents pointed the raft downstream slightly, but they all ganged up and kicked harder and made significant progress toward the opposite shoreline. Frebec took a deep breath, and looked up from the center of the raft as he exhaled, they were well over half way across now. The sight of the pile of belongings and some of their friends on the other side getting closer energized them all into a fresh burst of speed. It didn't look like they would drift too far past their docking point this time if they kept this push going for a little longer.

"We're close, pick it up!" He called out, getting a mouthful of water for his effort, choking off whatever it was that he was about to say next. Frebec sputtered and spit the foul, dirty tasting water out of his mouth and through his nose, then gritted his teeth and kicked on for all he was worth.

**********

"We've got company." Ludeg's voice wasn't loud, but it seemed like everyone heard him as quiet as it got after he said it.

Rymar and Wymez rushed over to him, Brenan and Rug weren't far behind. Draag hurried over as well, his limp a bit more pronounced in his haste. Brug and Mortan followed Jozen in from the south side of the camp perimeter.

Tulie froze in place, looking through the trees to the south. She turned and looked back to the raft bobbing in the shallows as they walked it back upstream some twenty steps away.

"Talut!" She yelled out. "Hurry, they're coming! They're coming!"

"Get out your spear throwers, everyone that has one, hurry up." Wymez said, looking at the wide line, two to three people deep of dark headed men jogging toward them at the edge of the tree line.

From this far out, it was hard to get a head count, but it was obvious that they were outnumbered. The encroachers all carried spears, and each one of them had one hand holding onto the top of the waist-high scabbards to keep them from flopping around as they came. The scabbards all bulged with feathered spear shafts.

"Tulie, get that raft loaded!" Wymez turned and called out. "Now!"

Tulie nodded and grabbed up an armload of bundles, the others around her pitched in, grabbing all they could carry. The raft was almost there, and the rest of the women hurried down to the waters edge, waiting while the men pushed the heavy raft up to the bank.

As soon as the raft hit the mud, Tulie tossed the bundles onto the center of the floor and hopped into the water to take Ranec's place at the front corner of the raft. Manuv jumped down and relieved Branag, as the men from all sides of the raft scrambled ashore, slipping and sliding in the mud as they scaled the low drop off, running ashore.

"Brug, you and Mortan get back to the raft and help them get it ready to go!" Rymar barked. He looked back as the boys took off, seeing Talut and the other men coming toward them clad only in loincloths and dripping from head to toe.

"Talut! Talut, you all grab all the spears you can carry! Hurry!" Rymar turned back to the north, the band was closer.

"I don't figure they're bringing us a farewell meal." Ludeg said softly, getting chuckles from Brenan and Jozen on either side of him. He pulled his spear thrower out of the quiver strapped across the center of his back, and grabbed several spears as well.

The line formed, widening when Talut and the other five men arrived. The band was almost with range of the spear throwers now, and coming.

"Well, they look awfully familiar." Branag said, still breathing hard and he prodded the ground with the butt of his spear. "As soon as they are in range, you guys let 'em have it."

Branag wished his own spear thrower wasn't somewhere on the other side of the river, he wasn't alone in that thought. Talut, Frebec, and Salen all had the same feelings, the incredible range of the spear throwers would be nice to have about now. Each man had several regular throwing spears, and one ready to go in their throwing hands.

Brenan stepped forward, drawing back his spear. Wymez, Ludeg, and Jozen stepped up with him. They all let fly about the same time, the spears reaching high into the air before starting their descent into the oncoming crowd of men.

Three men, two on the front row and one from just behind them fell hard to the ground, clutching the small spears that impaled them. One man was hit twice, in the chest and thigh, he writhed on the ground as his companions rushed past him. Cries could be heard as Brenan and the rest reloaded to throw again. The band sped up into a dead run, pulling their own spears up as they came.

Ludeg let fly first, the other three following right behind him. Talut took three steps forward and let a throwing spear go with all the massive force he could muster.

This time, the savages saw the spears coming and tried to dodge them as they came down. A few were successful, but several more fell.

One man out front, slightly ahead of the rest screamed out and let a spear fly in return. It fell just short, and he reached down to pull a fresh spear from his waist scabbard. The man felt the sudden jarring burn of a spear shoot through his forearm, pinning it to his belly where the point of the spear finally stopped half way through him. He stumbled and fell face first into the grass.

They kept coming, closing up the distance between them.

The full line of the Mamutoi stepped up and let fly. More men were cut down, and spears were returned this time, with force. Most fell short, but more than a few fell among the Mamutoi.

Talut saw them coming, three spears aimed right at him. I must make a big target, he thought as he twisted his huge body to dodge the first spear. The second spear just brushed his chest leaving a long streak of blood across his protruding belly. The third spear hit him full in the top of the hip, stabbing deep. Talut cried out as he crumbled to his knees.

Branag ducked under a spear and when he straightened back up threw his own spear hard, not waiting to see where it went. He scrambled over to Talut, grabbing him under the arms and hauling him back up to his feet.

Manuv reared back to throw and froze awkwardly in mid motion suddenly, he groaned and fell face first to the ground in a heap. The sharpened bone point of a spear stuck out of the center of his lower back, pointing slightly downward.

The attack faltered under the next wave of spears thrown, Rug and Draag dropped two more men as they slowed to step over and around fallen comrades. Brenan and Ludeg dropped another with twin hits on the same guy, spinning him around grotesquely as the blood spurted. The savages formed up loosely, and let fly again.

The wave of spears came at them, and Rymar and Jozen were both hit. Rymar in the calf, Jozen in the left arm just below the shoulder. Rymar dropped to one knee, while Jozen spun and fell hard to the ground.

"Let's go!" Tulie cried as she and Tressie rushed up to the front line, spears in hand.

Tulie let her spear fly, Tressie following right behind her. Tulie grabbed Rymar and threw him over her shoulder, screaming at the rest of them as she turned back toward the raft.

"Let's get out of here!."

Tressie and Ludeg grabbed Jozen between them and dragged him down the slight slope. They half ran, and half stumbled their way through the remnants of the camp, picking up speed as they grew closer to the brown water of the river.

Brenan dodged a spear meant for his chest, and spun around and threw one in return. Wymez and Draag let fly again, and between the three of them the attackers slowed again to regroup. Rug fired off a spear that knocked one foe into another, both going down in a heap, and incredibly, Talut threw another spear himself. He was back on his feet, though the shaft of the spear still sticking out of his hip, a wide blood trail running down his thick thigh.

Salen, Frebec , and Troog all threw another salvo of spears.

"Let's go!" Tulie screamed at them again as she approached the raft.

Branag turned to go and saw Manuv face down in the grass, and grabbed him around the waist and hoisted him up over his shoulders. His powerful body lurched under the weight, but he got his balance quickly and headed out.

Brenan threw the last spear he had, piercing the chest of the nearest adversary, and was turning to run when Frebec screamed out. Frebec fell over backwards, a spear sticking out of the front of his thigh, he clutched it with both hands.

"Grab hold!" Brenan said, reaching his hands down to Frebec. Frebec took his hands and Brenan yanked him to his feet, and wrapped his arm around Frebec's chest. Brenan took off to the raft.

Wymez and Draag threw one last spear each and turned to flee. Wymez caught up to Brenan and Frebec, and he slipped under Frebec's arm and helped them along.

Ranec, Rug, and Salen turned and retreated a few steps, then turned to fire off another volley. Two out of three spears did damage, and they retreated again.

Tulie helped get Manuv and Rymar aboard the raft. The raft was filling up fast, the bundles of supplies scattered haphazardly in the center. Roxie, Inca, and Mamie held the raft stationary in the water, the craft bobbing up and down with the sudden shifts of weight as more people piled on.

Talut and Draag were the last ones on the shore, they turned to throw their last spears. Neither watched to see the results of their throws, scrambling down the muddy slope and into the water. Brenan, Ludeg, Troog, and Ranec were all in position with Wymez, Tulie, Branag, and Mekan all hopping off the raft to grab the out runners.

"Go!" Talut screamed, reaching down to snap the shaft in two that stuck out of his hip. He grabbed the rear cross piece of the raft and shoved, his hip screaming at him with stabs of pain. Talut pushed on.

Mortan and Brug lay at the front of the raft, reaching out and paddling with their hands. Inca and Mamie saw what they were doing and stretched out and did the same.

They rushed to get the raft farther out into the water, aiming for the current downstream. When they were twenty five paces out, the first of the savages appeared above them on the bank, he was not alone.

"Watch out!" Branag yelled, looking up over his shoulder at the spears being raised on shore.

Everyone on the raft took notice, some ducking or cringing in fear, others grabbing spears to throw in return. Spears thudded onto the raft and into the water all around them. A spear stuck into the flooring log between Mortan's outstretched legs. Another one impaled Aba's calf to the deck of the raft. She made no sound as she winced in pain and tried to pull the spear free from her leg. She tried to move, but found she was pinned solidly in place.

The raft sped up, the current grabbing and pulling her along, farther and farther out into the river. The swift water turned the raft, pointing it straight downstream.

Rug felt the hard impact, then the searing burn as a spear caught him high in the left shoulder blade and he almost lost his grip on the log. He wrapped his good arm over the top, and hung on for dear life.

The last spear went into the river a few feet behind the raft, with an almost silent splash.

**********

The raft pointed toward the far shoreline, pulled along in the center of the river. Bobbing and swaying with the strongest part of the current, the raft was still relatively stable though some of the logs seemed to groan as they rubbed together. It was the heaviest load yet, and even though they had a lot of men in the water kicking them forward, the going was slow.

Tressie looked around and felt the panic rising. This was all just too much, there were injured people all around her and she didn't even have her medicine bag. She felt helpless and for a little bit, like a scared little girl. Tressie took a deep breath and fought off the feelings of fear and helplessness, and demanded to herself that she make use of what she had. She was a medicine woman, and needed to act like one.

The feelings finally passed, and she got to work. Tressie grabbed the nearest bundle and cut the tie straps off of it, spilling its contents back into the pile. She pulled her knife and began to cut strips from the skin about half as wide as her hand, dropping them into a pile between her legs. When she had a good sized handful, she looked around to see who needed attention first.

Frebec sat closest to her, the spear sticking out of the center of his thigh gushed blood as he tried to pull it out of his legs, grimacing with the pain. Tressie scooted over to him, the raft wallowing in the current and adversely affecting her balance slightly. To her left, she saw Aba trying to pull the spear shaft out of her calf but it was stuck into the flooring log beneath her and she wasn't able to free it.

Tressie grabbed Frebec's hands, and looked into his pain laced eyes.

"Let go, I'll do it." Her voice was soft, but commanding.

Frebec nodded, and leaned back and used his hands to support his upper body. He took a deep breath, and squeezed his eyes tightly shut. The incredibly sharp stab of pain almost caused him to pass out, and he opened his eyes wide as he lurched forward. The spear was out, leaving a jagged, bloody hole and Tressie wrapped a wide strap of leather around it tightly. The intense pain numbed a bit, but he could feel the blood throbbing with every pulse of his heart.

Tressie tied off the wrap, her hands were red and slick with Frebec's blood. The wrap seeped a little, but the blood flow was substantially reduced. She looked over to see that Aba had freed her leg from the floor of the raft, but the spear still stuck all the way through her calf.

Draag sat next to Aba, he had the spear shaft in his hands just above her calf. Tressie saw the powerful muscles in his arms flex up and heard the dry snap of the shaft as it snapped in two pieces. She scooted over to them and sat back to set the pile of straps beside her on one of the loosely piled bundles in the middle of the floor.

Aba's face was a mask of silent pain, her jaw clinched tightly shut. Her strongly featured face seemed rather out of proportion with the intense grimace. Draag put one hand on her calf, lifting it up enough to grasp the spear point below with his other hand. She looked into his deep brown eyes and nodded feebly. With a smooth, powerful tug, Draag pulled the splintered shaft through he calf muscle and tossed it aside as he squeezed the leg to slow the blood flow.

Tressie started wrapping the leg with a wide strap, overlapping it three times around her leg before tying it off. With a slight moan, Aba lost consciousness and fell over backwards. Draag caught her with his hand at the center of her back and let her down to the floor gently. Tressie helped mover her arms into a more comfortable position, and felt the raft shift direction slightly.

"Oh great Mother!"

The voice was faint and sounded so very far away. Tressie looked up and saw her mother, Tessie, standing on the bank of the river to her left. It was obvious that Tessie saw the spears sticking up from the floor of the raft, and more. They had overshot their landing spot by a good way, and were still heading downstream. Tessie took off, disappearing into the trees.

Tressie could hear her mother's cries for help, but the sounds faded quickly. She turned her attention to Manuv and crawled over closer to where he lay on his side, facing away from her.

Ranec and Salen felt the bottom at the same time, and did their best to slow the sideways progress of the raft with their feet. As the raft slowed, it spun around and Wymez and Ludeg found their footing, the four men pulled the raft up to the muddy bank, getting help as the other kickers could touch bottom.

Rug tried to stand up in the shallow water at the center outrigger of the raft, but he was so weak. He kept feeling his balance sway and the horizon kept moving, he was dizzy. The spear in the back of his shoulder felt like it weighed as much as a full grown deer, heavy and cumbersome, the pain was so intense it was frightening.

The shore line was suddenly rife with people, many hopping down into the river to help. Rug felt strong hands grip him from behind, and relaxed into them as the world started spinning slowly around him. Crag lifted him up to his full height, and walked him over to the muddy bank. Borg helped pull him ashore, laying him on his side in the pine needles under a large pine tree.

Talut laid down over the back of the raft, breathing deeply. The pain in his hip had spread to his entire side now, and he too was feeling dizzy. Branag sided up next to him, speaking softly.

"Want some help, or would you like to rest for a little first?"

Talut looked over at him and grinned, then shut his eyes for a moment.

**********

A small treatment area was quickly set up in the shade of the trees. Sleeping furs laid out and a small fire pit was dug and supplied. The healers all had plenty of help, there were a lot of able hands willing to do anything asked of them.

Lookouts were posted up and down the river bank, this was no time to take any chance of being surprised. Mortan and Brug walked from one lookout to the next constantly, with their spears at the ready.

Mog-ur stood off to the side of the fire, he studied the healers and what all they were doing. He was more than pleased at how well they all worked together, especially Etra. Mog-ur began calling the spirits down to assist the healers. His graceful movement and motions accented by the tattoo that almost seemed to glow out from his bare chest. The signs he made imploring the protective spirits, cajoling them, begging their help and strength.

A bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, it looked to anyone watching that Mog-ur was getting a direct answer from the spirits. The ensuing thunder was far away and no more than a low rumble.

Vincavec and Matera worked on Jozen's arm, the wound was ragged and wide by the time they removed the spear. The carved bone spear tip had cut the muscle to shreds where it had passed through the tissue. Jozen passed out during the removal process, and it was probably for the best. He would sleep through most of the most painful part.

Brenan and Latie worked on Talut, who swilled a skin of bouza and never stayed quiet for very long. He instructed Ranec to take some help and cut all the straps of the raft loose and to set the logs afloat, he didn't want it to be used again—by anyone. The spear had not penetrated his hip very deeply, but it had pierced the bone and the tip was hard to get out. His face was beet red with a firmly clenched jaw when Brenan finally pulled it free. It bled profusely.

Brenan and Latie went straight to Rug as soon as they finished with Talut. The strong man of the Clan appeared to be dozing, but when he looked up and saw the two of them, a strong look of relief washed over his face.

Tressie and Etra treated Rymar, but his was probably the least serious of all their injuries. When they finished with him, they went back to Frebec and Aba to clean and re-wrap their wounds now that they had ample medicinal supplies.

Manuv was dead, the spear he was hit with went in at the lower part of his chest, just below where his ribs came together, and exited through his lower back. Little Nuvie was completely unconsolable, weeping with her head buried in the nape of his neck. Her entire body quivered with every gasp of breath she took in her despair. Tronie and Tornec sat with her to share her grief, they had all loved the old man that had been a part of their hearth for so long.

Nezzie and several other women brought over some food and drink. Ludeg and Salen went back to the camp and brought over two sledges to carry the wounded back on.

Talut was a little unsteady on his feet, but even with a full skin of bouza in him he was determined to help get the wounded back to the camp site that he had yet to see. Rymar and Aba were settled into one sledge, and Frebec and the body of Manuv loaded into the second. Nuvie sat in Frebec's lap, holding Manuv's hand. Talut walked beside them, his tears falling freely.

Branag and Salen got into position, and started pulling the two sledges into the trees, following Nezzie. The rest followed along, while Latie and Brenan stayed behind to put out the fire and cover the coals with dirt.

A light rain began to fall.

**********

The camp was located in a small clearing that had been cleared of some low growing brush under a canopy of tall pines. A fire pit had been dug in the center, and the three tents had been set up, all with their openings facing the fire. Four perimeter fires were set up and provisioned, but not yet lit.

The camp was a solemn, soggy place. The light rain continued to fall, though within the confines of the canopy it stayed relatively dry.

Brenan and Tornec started to dig a hole that would be Manuv's grave on the south outskirts of the camp. They found a pleasant spot in the center of a small clearing leading into a patch of low brush covered with bright yellow seed pods between the trees. The hole was almost knee deep and growing deeper slowly.

All the wounded were asleep or falling asleep with the aid of pain killing tea potions or Talut's bouza, many had both. The largest traveling tent was used to house them in, and Tressie, Matera, and Etra kept a constant vigil there.

Brug spent some time with Aba, making sure his mother was comfortable and had anything she desired. He was at a strange age, no longer a child, but not yet really a man. His Clan training and upbringing clashed inside his head, leaving him confused at times. There was nothing he would not do to please this woman, but the growing man inside him argued against giving her any undue show of emotion or warmth. Brug sat with her, holding her hand and caressing her thick, wavy hair. It wasn't the first time he went against the strict Clan traditions, it probably wouldn't be the last. He stayed with her until she fell asleep, then sought out Mortan.

Ludeg, Salen, and Thorec stayed at the rivers edge to keep watch. Thorec ventured north to observe the savages at their own camp from the safety of the trees across the river from them. Brug and Mortan went out to join them after a quick bite to eat, they would be sent back to camp post haste if any trouble presented itself.

Tressie and Deegie sat on either side of Danug. He was reclining on a small pile of sleeping furs just inside the tent opening. His eyes were bloodshot, and his speech slurred from bouza, the pain in his arm was dulled, but constant and never far from his thoughts.

"How many are hurt?" He asked again.

"Several. It's bad, and Manuv was killed." Deegie said, wiping a tear from her eye.

"Even Talut got hurt?" His words so slurred that they were hard to understand.

"Yes, even Talut." Deegie said, turning her head slightly to keep Danug from seeing her grin. Tressie smiled back at her, Danug was an amusing, almost childlike drunk.

Tressie looked at his rugged facial features, his short reddish beard was growing back in from him shaving it off several days back. It was still short enough to give him a boyish appearance, unless he was standing up and his huge stature gave him away. She wanted to change his bandage and clean the wound, it had been really dirty and ragged when Branag had helped him back to camp. Tressie worried about infection, but cleaning the wound now would hurt. A lot.

Danug's eyes closed a little more, he was fading. Deegie grinned, and spoke softly.

"Danug, we are going to clean the wound and put on a fresh bandage."

"Uh huh, sure you are..." Danug lowered his head slowly into the pile of furs, his mouth open and a drop of spit rolling down his cheek as his head stopped.

"I'll get the datura and marigold boiling." Tressie said, slipping away toward the fire.

Deegie watched her go, and pulled a roll of clean leather strapping from her medicine pouch. She pulled two loose, laying them on the edge of the soft spotted deer skin that covered Danug, and gently took the half full cup of bouza from his right hand. Deegie upended the cup, making a face at the strong taste.

**********

The rain stopped sometime during the second watch, and the sunrise shortly thereafter was magnificent. Every leaf or needle of every tree, every blade of grass, every wildflower glowed with sparkling droplets of moisture in the soft red sunlight of the dawn.

Brug and Mortan came back into camp just after first light. They river guards had seen nothing out of the ordinary during the night, but they were all hungry. Nezzie and Inca fixed them up a traveling pack of hot food and sent them on their way, both boys chewing on strips of warmed over aurochs.

The morning was hard on the injured, and some of the unhurt as well. The injured were all very sore and tender, and all of the pain killing potions had long since worn off. Everyone had to face the service for Manuv.

Latie performed the funeral ceremony and Manuv was laid to rest. She signed in the language of the Clan as she spoke, and the men of the Clan pounded on the bare earth with the Clan rhythms that seemed so ver appropriate to the ceremony. Mog-ur stood with her, calling the spirits of old to watch over their friend.

There wasn't a dry eye amongst the Others, and the sorrow of the Clan was evident in their own way, through their stance and posture. By the end of the funeral service, everyone there had silently taken stock of their lives, hopes and dreams. Facing their own mortality was not something any of them had time to ponder in a long, long time.

Little Nuvie laid the last stone on the burial cairn, and dropped to her knees in the mud and sobbed. Tronie, Tornec, and Latie all stayed with her long after the rest had gone back to camp. In the end, Latie took Nuvie for a walk in the woods and they had a good, long talk. When the finally returned to camp, Nuvie still had red, swollen eyes, but appeared rational even though the sadness of her loss still wracked her.

**********

Thorec burst through the brush and into the small clearing behind the thick tree trunks. Ludeg and Salen both jumped, but Brug and Mortan had both heard him coming. The young hunters were extraordinarily aware of their surroundings. Rymar had taught them well, and his lessons were seen as life and death to the boys. Their youthful eyesight and sensitive hearing was better than any of the adults, and more keenly acute.

"They're packing up." Thorec whispered in a ragged voice. He was breathing hard, Thorec had run all the way back from his vantage point to the north where he had spied on the savage's camp. It had been a pretty long run.

"Last night they made three incredibly large camp fires, then first thing this morning they started packing up." He paused to take another gasping breath. "They're moving on, going north."

"Good, you all get back to camp and tell the others, I'll stay here and make sure it isn't a faint to catch us off guard." Ludeg whispered, motioning with his head for them to go on.

**********

That evening after the meal, most of the camp stayed around the fire. It was an open group discussion that was probably a little bit overdue. Plans for the immediate future were usually discussed regularly, but this hadn't happened in the last few days.

"...with the savages leaving and moving on further north, we can safely stay here a few more days to let our injured get stronger and better able to travel." Vincavec was saying, adding to what Talut had just been discussing on the best plan of action for the camp.

"Will there be more like them?" Frebec asked, unconsciously rubbing the bandage on his thigh. Crisavec sat on his good thigh, his arms wrapped around his neck with his head buried in the nape of Frebec's neck.

Vincavec looked to Wymez who sat next to Rymar between Brug and Mortan for an answer. Wymez thought for a long moment before answering.

"The journey I made was so long ago, things may very well be vastly different now." He said thoughtfully, then went on. "Yes, I think there will be more of the 'Eastern Savages' between where we are now and where the land turns to the south around the great narrow sea. Years ago, they were around, though never very plentiful. That may be different now, I never saw a group of them anywhere near the size of this one before."

'Legend has it that they often do congregate in large groups before winter sets in.' Mog-ur began. 'In the summer, they split up into smaller nomadic bands, but they seem to gather together to winter.'

Tornec translated, then asked a question of his own.

"Are they always so hostile, so aggressive?"

Mog-ur thought for a moment before speaking, he wondered just how much he should say. The legends and the oldest of the Clan memories were often clouded in haze and mists that were hard to decipher with total correctness.

'The legends say these people are often very aggressive. In fact they almost always are. They roam freely and raid and plunder anyone they come across. This is their way, it is what they do.' Mog-ur paused, then made a decision and with a great deal of trepidation continued. 'It is also thought that these savage people have been known to eat their vanquished enemies.'


	20. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

_**Healers and Hunters**_

Vincavec had predicted a stay of two or three days for the injured to heal up enough for them to move on. Ten days later though, they were still camped in the same place under the canopy of the huge pines.

There had been no further sign of the savages, when they had moved on north that had been the last that they had seen of them. Guards still patrolled the river bank daily, as well to the north of the camp. To be caught unaware now by the return of the savages could prove to be disastrous.

Talut was walking without a limp now, when he remembered to force himself to do so. It was a terrible insult to his manhood for him to allow any weakness, other than the 'morning after' sickness, to show. The 'morning after' sickness he wore like a badge of honor, at least until he brewed his own stout version of 'morning after' tea.

His hip was mostly healed on the surface, but the muscle damage underneath would still be a while yet to finish repairing itself. Talut had eight stitches showing in his skin at the point of impact, and the skin was healing well. It had taken all of thirteen stitches to pull his heavily damaged muscles back into place, and every one of them had been necessary. A lesser man wouldn't have been able to even walk unassisted, but Talut had never been even remotely accused of being a lesser man. Like a man of the Clan, Talut masked his pain as a measure of his courage. He had drunk the last stores of his famous bouza though, but in truth he had more than a little help along the way.

Danug had little trouble keeping up with Talut. For him, it was imperative to match the man of his hearths progress in every way. Danug faced his pain with all the tolerance he could muster, which was a lot. The arm was healing, but still terribly sore, and he made a point to use it a little more with every passing day. He had only popped two stitches loose so far with his increasing exertions, and he didn't think that was too bad.

Frebec and Jozen were both well on their way to a full recovery. Frebec had one small bout with infection on the surface of the wound in his thigh, but a skilled and quite painful lancing procedure had taken care of that in short order. Jozen's arm was stiff and painful and healing rather nicely. Both men had some of the newfangled stitching holding their wounded flesh closed, and neither one of them looked forward to getting them pulled out when the time was right. If taking them out was any where near as painful as getting them in was, it was not going to be much fun at all.

Rug was probably the least affected by his injury, outwardly at least. He allowed the healers to work on him as necessary, but never asked for anything in the way of pain killers or anything else for that matter. Rug dominated the pain he felt with stoic resolve, and as soon as the healers said he was able to use his arm, he worked it relentlessly. Several of the stitches in his shoulder blade had ripped through twice so far, but had been repaired as needed. His skin was now healed over again, with only one small scab left to fall off. Rug felt a sense of pride he never before thought possible, these incredible medicine men and women had his complete confidence and he was sure that they were capable of almost anything.

Rymar and Aba were the main reason that the camp had not moved on. They had remarkably similar wounds, and both of them had experienced several bouts of infection. Rymar had the better of it, but the healers had lanced deep infected pockets three times thus far, two of them twice. This had really slowed the healing process, and the older man was yet to be able to walk without the aid of the tall walking stick that Brenan had made for him.

Aba was in worse shape. There was a dark colored knot that started at the surface of the skin, and went deep into the muscle of her calf. The lump caused her such great pain that she was barely able to move around at all, and when she was helped to her feet she could tolerate no weight on it at all. It took two people helping her for her to get anywhere.

This had been the subject of many deep discussions between the healers. Any further treatment would involve cutting into the leg, for the skin had healed cleanly at the surface of the wound on each side of her calf. Aba had not been plagued with any infection to her skin at the point of impact on either side, and had healed well with the aid of twelve stitches.

"...the possibility of simply lancing it with a thin, pointed awl instead of cutting the leg back open to get at the entire pocket." Tressie said finishing her thought. They all sat in a tight circle facing each other well away from the camp in the shade of a short alder.

"That may be a good idea, but in order to drain out all the collected fluids, it will have to be squeezed—I'm not too sure that Aba will be able to take that kind of pain." Brenan said in argument.

Tornec lost most of the color in his face as he translated for Etra and the Mog-ur. All this talk of cutting and squeezing and corruption was making him queasy. He took a deep breath and kept on signing with a very pale face and slightly shaking hands.

"If we gave her a large dose of datura, she might be able to sleep through it all." Vincavec said, rubbing his freshly shaved chin.

"That is a dangerous procedure and you know it." Matera spoke up quickly, thinking hard and challenging herself to come up with a decent alternative to a hefty dose of the powerful datura.

'Clan women are capable of tolerating pain very well.' Etra signed, then continued. 'This may be too much though, this infection is deep.'

Mog-ur watched and listened without comment. His fascination with the depths of this discussion and the combined knowledge represented by these learned people was incredible to behold. Mog-ur was especially proud of Etra, and how she had added to the conversation without hesitation. She was indeed a medicine woman now, and a very skilled one at that. He had often wondered just how much knowledge she would be able to amass from her intense training, and the deep memories she could access.

"If we gave her a modest dose of datura, tied a cord around her leg at the knee, and coated the wounded area with a paste of datura and sunami it might be enough." Matera offered, almost thinking through the method aloud. "We could poke it with an awl like Tressie suggested, then wrap the area with a hot rag soaked in willow bark tea and marigold extract to draw out the corruption without squeezing it—maybe."

The circle got quiet as they all pictured this method of treatment in their minds. Vincavec smiled, he liked the possibilities. It was an unusually clever idea, but coming from Matera he wasn't too surprised.

"I like it." Brenan offered, his brow still wrinkled in thought.

'This is a good idea.' Etra signed. 'Even if all the corruption is not released, it will not have to be squeezed nearly as much, or as hard. This will work.'

Tornec rolled his eyes as he translated, and swallowed hard. Much more of this and I may lose the rabbit stew I just ate, he thought.

Mog-ur watched their faces as they considered this idea, he was pleasantly surprised at the confidence they all showed for an unknown procedure. Tressie looked even more pleased with this idea than the rest of them did, and they all looked rather well satisfied. After having been treated by Tressie in his own life and death situation, Mog-ur was confident that if it could be done, Tressie could do it. Her stamp of approval was a real boost to his confidence.

"We should wait until morning to try this, Aba should have an empty stomach for the datura to have maximum effect." Tressie said. "I would like to explain what we are going to do to Aba, she will fear it less if she understands."

Tressie looked around, one face at a time. There were no visible objections, and when she got to Etra and the Mog-ur she paused. Etra nodded her head in agreement, and with that, it was settled.

**********

The woods varied a lot in the amount and density of the tree cover. There were places so thick it was hard to walk through, and wide patches of thinned areas dominated by low growing brush and bright green grasses of many varieties. Pines thinned and birch and maple encroached and thickened in their absence, while spruce and willows made their presence felt growing through the gaps of the thinning pines.

Deer and small antelope signs were everywhere, though seeing them and getting close enough to them to hunt proved to be two very different things. Predator tracks lined the muddy banks of a small creek in the clear places, wolf, lynx, and more. Hyena, bear, and the larger footprints of either a snow leopard or a young lion were all spotted at a clearing in the midst of a loose formation of willows.

A small pond, the result of a beaver dam, spread out in the shade of a ring of oak and willows. The water was clear and a few ducks swam in the shallows on the far shore. A few rippling swells appeared on the surface of the water from time to time indicating a nice population of fish of some kind. It was hard to see much more than the occasional glimpses of the dark shapes of the fish in the dim morning light as they slipped past just under the surface.

Brug and Mortan hunted daily, often striking out well before dawn and again closer to mid day or late afternoon. They were now very familiar with the lay of the land to the east and south, but were forbidden to hunt to the north in case the savages were to return. They had taken two beaver from this pond so far, but this morning they had been unable to get a shot off. The lone beaver they saw to their east was out of range of their hiding spot, and the ducks had landed to the north side of the pond out of reach as well. The hunters had moved on to more fertile hunting grounds to the west of the pond just after daybreak, and had their usual success going after other prey.

They moved through the trees with the silence and ease of a stalking cat, eyes everywhere and ears open to any sound. These young hunters knew each others every move by instinct now, and were as lethal a hunting pair as any that had come before them. Without looking up, both were aware of the squirrels in the trees above them, a hare off to their left, and a pair of fox stalking something to their right. If it weren't for the load they carried suspended between them , the foxes may well have become the collars for someone's new fur parka.

Brug and Mortan returned to the outskirts of the camp just as the sun completely cleared the eastern horizon. They carried four rabbits, a pair of gerboas, and a very fat wolverine between them dangling by the feet from one of Mortan's spears.

Rug and Ludeg greeted them at the eastern perimeter fire that had almost completely burned out. There was no surprise at the efficiency these two young hunters showed anymore, in fact it was expected that virtually every first meal would be provided by them. The only real question was what they would bring home, those on guard duty often guessed between themselves. Today, Rug was more accurate, he had predicted three rabbits. Ludeg's guess was geese or ducks, which had almost been the case but for the chance that the ducks had randomly lit on the wrong side of the pond.

Ova saw them walking down the trail, and left the platter of cat tail shoots she and Nezzie were working on to clean the morning's kill. Brug dropped his end of the spear as she approached, the animals falling to the ground at his feet. She gathered them up, and Ludeg went with her to help out.

**********

Mog-ur sat on a large exposed tree root by himself just out of sight of the camp off to the west. He was prone to sneaking off for a few moments of quiet contemplation and meditation early in the mornings of late, and it was something he rather enjoyed. This morning though, he just wanted to be away from the camp. Though he was very interested in the healer's methods and procedures, the thought of what faced Aba this morning was not pleasant.

The sunlight filtered through the trees in bright streaks, casting stripes of shadows on the ground all around him. Mog-ur closed his eyes and raised his hands, and began silently calling on the protective spirits to watch over and to assist the healers in the difficult task that lay before them.

When he was finished, Mog-ur felt a small wave of warmth envelope him in the coolness of the morning. The spirits are here, he thought, and they approve of our quest. The thought gave him strength and comfort, and he gave his amulet a squeeze, silently thanking them for their presence.

As he was about to get up, a strange movement caught his eye. Mog-ur watched a single leave flutter to the ground in front of him. He looked up as a small gust of wind shook a few more leaves loose, and watched them descend gracefully. Mog-ur studied the leaves above him, and noticed for the first time that more than a few of them were slightly discolored. Light yellow and auburn patches of color were scattered within the deep greens and browns above him in the trees. He was amazed that he had not seen any of this before.

Mog-ur wondered if anyone else had noticed this new development as he walked slowly back to camp. His mind began to consider all the possibilities and the hardship that this change brought forth. As many times as he had tried to think it through, too many unknowns still plagued him. How is it possible for such a large band of people to travel through the winter, the very idea of this was totally unheard of. Mog-ur had no memories available to call on to help, and this alone gave him serious pause.

Another soft breeze rustled through, and more leaves broke loose and fell fluttering gracefully through the air.

**********

"Here, drink this." Tressie said, holding the carved wooden cup out to Aba. "It will taste much better, I promise."

Aba took the cup, sniffing the steam that rose off the top. Though she understood little of the spoken language that Tressie used, the inflection was easy enough for her to read. What would pass as a Clan 'smile' softened her face and she took a small sip. The tea was hot, and lightly sweetened with rose hips and linden flower. It also contained a small portion of willow bark and a little bit more datura. Aba could already feel the effects of the first two cups that had been so heavily laced with datura and even some sunami mixed in that the bitter aftertaste still coated the entire inside of her mouth. This pleasant tasting tea washed away the awful aftertaste rather well.

The two women sat next to a small fire on the far east side of the camp, nestled in the shade of a tall pine. Aba reclined against the wide trunk of the tree, with a nice pile of sleeping skins to soften her bed nicely. Her leg was still wrapped from just above the knee down to her ankle, the odd swelling could be seen from either side of the calf through the wrap. The morning was still quite cool, and a soft breeze rustled through the treetops.

Vincavec, Brenan, and Matera all approached, carrying empty bowls and their medicine bags. They settled in exchanging morning pleasantries while they arranged the tools of their trade around them on the ground covered with light brown pine needles.

Etra walked over with Tornec, she carried a wide, shallow bowl of steaming water. She set it down between Matera and Vincavec and sat down next to Aba. A certain amount of relief was evident in Aba's eyes at Etra's presence. Aba reached out with her free hand and touched Etra lightly on the thigh.

'This medicine is making me feel odd.'

Etra nodded, then signed in return. 'It is meant to, it will dull the pain you feel when we work on your leg.'

'Can the leg be healed?' Aba worried that she would be relegated to the lowest status if she could not walk correctly. Though her Clan had not really designated status much past the leaders, it was still a concern, old thoughts still often prevailed.

Etra nodded, giving the frightened young woman her best confident look. Aba relaxed considerably and took a deep breath as she leaned back into the softness of the furs.

Using the bone handled flint knife that she had been given at the Lion Camp before the Clan began their journey, Etra sliced through the knot just above the knee. Vincavec lifted Aba's foot up gently and placed it on his thigh, her heal cradled in the wide palm of his left hand.

Etra unwrapped the wide, stiff skin over the top of the leg and handed it over to Tressie on the opposite side. Tressie continued, and handed it back under the calf. The wrap was stiff and clumsy to handle.

It became obvious rather quickly the leg was worse, much worse than it had been just yesterday. There was a dark purple, almost black streak on each side of the calf, swollen and distended. The lumps were twice the size they had been, and much darker in color. In three separate places, there were hot pink lumps obviously filled with infection.

Tressie carefully pulled the last of the wrap free, and snipped the bottom knot with Etra's knife. She took a deep breath and took the bowl of yellow liquid from Brenan. Tressie soaked a small square of rabbit skin in the warm antiseptic solution and cleaned the entire area, being especially careful around the stitches.

Etra waited until Tressie sat back, then carefully prodded the top of the swollen area, watching Aba's reactions carefully. Aba winced at every touch and gentle probe. Matera had warned them that if the area was too infected or swollen that the pain numbing potions may have little or no effect. Etra knew now that she was right, this would be a painful procedure for Aba.

Out of the corner of her eye, Aba saw the Mog-ur standing off to the northern edge of their little area. He signed gracefully at the sky, calling the protective spirits and imploring them to help. Aba took more comfort from the old holy man's actions than she could have possibly expected to. She took a deep breath and tried to relax, setting her jaw tightly against the discomfort to come, calling on her inner strength and resolve.

"Instead of opening the stitches, I think we should try draining off the discolored areas first." Matera said, and Tornec took a deep breath and translated her words for Etra.

"Matera, we should lance the infected pockets before you do anything else." Brenan said, not liking the looks of the dark areas and wanting more time to consider their options.

"Brenan's right, lance the pockets first." Vincavec chimed in, wondering what they should do about the dark places himself.

Etra nodded to Tressie, and pulled a small folded skin out of her medicine pouch. She unfolded it carefully, and exposed a number of thin flint slivers of varying sizes. Etra chose one, and lay the skin on top of the pouch, and dipped the piece of blue-grey flint into the bowl of yellow liquid.

"Try to be still, everything we do will cause you pain.' Etra signed to a stern faced Aba. Aba gritted her teeth and nodded, her fear was evident.

Vincavec grasped her ankle firmly, and Brenan reached over and steadied her leg above the knee. They held her securely, immobilizing the leg as best they could.

Etra wiped the excess liquid off the sliver, and placed it against the infected pocket closest to the knee. She slid it through the pink skin, and pulled it up a little as she pulled it back out, widening the hole slightly.

Aba grimaced, but stayed completely still. She felt everything, even though her head was spinning from the potions.

**********

It was all too obvious that Aba had felt virtually every bit of the draining and cleansing of the three infected pockets, and the worst by far was yet to come. Matera suggested that another pain killing potion could be tried, but wasn't sure of just what to put in it. The discussion went on for a while, then Etra made a suggestion that surprised them all.

'Lets tie a cord tightly around the leg just above the knee, and let it set for a little bit. Then we will continue.'

Vincavec grinned at Matera, then at Brenan before speaking directly to Tressie. "Put a stick in the cord, then twist it tight and hold it. Etra is correct, this will help to numb the pain and it will also distract Aba."

Brenan produced a cord of leather strip from his pouch, and Tressie picked up a stick from the ground next to her leg. She got the cord into place, and held it tight after two twists of the stick. The trepidation in Aba's face waned slightly after a few moments, and she felt the difference in the level of discomfort. It still hurt, but the pain had changed from sharp to dull, this was a definite improvement.

Etra used the same sliver of flint to cut into the dark swollen area at the bottom of the outside of Aba's calf. At the initial puncture, a spurt of almost black, dead looking blood shot out of the lower leg and splattered Etra's hands and forearm. The smell hit them instantly, rotten and foul.

The swelling decreased as the blood flow slowed but drained steadily. Aba rolled her eyes at the smell and the incredible stab of pain hit her and she passed out, her head sinking into the soft furs.

Tressie used her free hand to press softly but firmly against the top of the dark patch of skin, working it down the leg toward the lanced area. The black blood kept coming out, and the smell grew worse if that were possible. When Tressie reached the lower section of the calf, the blood slowly turned brighter in color, lightening up into a really dark red.

"She is still bleeding inside." Vincavec said.

"There must be one of the blood carriers still damaged and open." Matera added.

"We can't do much more for her, if the hollow carrier doesn't heal itself she will bleed to death." Tressie said, pressing at the bottom of the dark skin now.

'We must drain the other side of the leg, then we can think on what to do next.' Etra signed, a concerned look on her hard to read face.

Tressie nodded, and Etra moved around to the other side.

**********

Vincavec felt a quiver in Aba's ankle, he looked up to her face and saw her eyes darting about under closed eyelids. He got a stronger grip on the ankle.

"She may be waking up." He said, watching her face carefully.

The other side of the leg went about the same way that the first side had, with the minute exception that there was very little red blood at the end of the procedure. They healers had all taken heart at this pleasant development.

The outside of the calf was already starting to swell again, though it happened slowly. Instead of the swollen area being dark purple as it was before, it was more reddish brown this time. She was still bleeding under the skin, and something had to be done, Aba had lost a lot of blood.

"We have to give the blood tube time to heal, it is the only way." Brenan said, his brow furrowed with concentration as he spoke.

"It's all I know to do without cutting her open and possibly making it worse." Vincavec added in support.

"Let's give it until tomorrow, see what it looks like then." Matera said.

"But if we do that, we may have to put Aba through all this again." Tressie said, her face showing her concern.

Tornec made the signs, but inside he wanted to run away and throw up. He had done his very best to not watch what they were doing, but even the quick glances had upset his stomach to the point of losing it altogether. This was not a good job, he thought to himself, swallowing hard. Why did I have to end up as the best interpreter in this camp, he wondered again.

'We will do as you all suggest, "Aba" is a strong woman, she will handle another procedure if it is necessary.' Etra signed, trying to convince herself as much as she tried to convince the other healers.

Aba groaned softly, her eyes fluttered open briefly before closing again. She slept.

**********

Mortan reached over and touched Brug on the shoulder, Brug stopped instantly. He pointed to a small clearing between two short, thick trees, and Brug scrutinized it carefully watching for any tell tale signs of movement. It was hard to see anything in the pale light of the coming dawn, but both the hunters eyes were as adjusted to the darkness as well as could be expected.

'What is it, I see nothing.' Brug signed.

'I saw spots and a glimpse of movement.' Mortan answered.

They crept forward slowly and quietly, veering to the south a little more to put the cover of the left side tree between them and whatever it was they were sneaking up on. Both hunters were crouched low in the thin tufts of tall grass as they got closer. The small stature of the young hunters came in rather handy when they stalked prey, it took very little cover for them to advance unseen. Their footfalls were silent, but the grass rustled very slightly against their leggings as they moved on.

When the spiky, tufted ears of the lynx raised up briefly, the boys froze in place until the cat dropped her head back down to feed again. Brug touched Mortan with the shaft of his spear, and pointed to their left. Mortan nodded and they split up to approach from either side of the northern most tree.

One thing that these young hunters had in abundance was patience. It had been drilled into them by Rymar on every single hunt they had ever been on with him, and he had taught them most of what they knew. The sunlight increased considerably before they were both in position, and the grass they had tucked into the necks of their tunics helped to soften their profiles against the background of sparse grass and the trees behind them.

Mortan whistled a brief, high pitched, chirping whistle that roughly imitated the sound made by a thrush's chirp. Brug answered with a short screech that sounded like a jay. The communication between the two was second nature by now, and they knew that the time and positioning was correct.

Brug stood slowly up to his full height, spears loose in his left hand and his favorite spear correctly positioned in his right. As he was able to see over the grass, he got his first surprise. Two lynx fed off the opened belly of a small, young spotted deer.

On the opposite side of the trees, Mortan could see only the prone body of the deer and the back side of one lynx as he stood up. He took three quick steps forward before Brug could signal him.

Brug saw Mortan moving, and took off himself. The lynx closest to Mortan jumped up and screeched, spinning toward Mortan and gathered himself to lunge. Mortan's spear took him in the left flank, spinning him around as his mate jumped up and charged. Brug took aim and let fly, his spear snapping the front leg of the lanky cat just above the knee.

The lynx rolled once and got back up on three legs, screaming out her displeasure. The male bounded ahead toward Mortan clumsily, limping badly. Mortan's second spear hit him full in the chest, just under his neck.

Brug threw another spear, catching the stumbling female high in the back of the neck, knocking her off her feet with the impact. He looked past her to see Mortan backing off, his eyes open wide with surprise. Brug took a deep breath and sighted the last loose spear he had on the male, and let go a powerful throw. The spear was off a bit, and it went all the way through the lower belly of the cat and pinned him to the ground.

Mortan threw another spear, catching the female full in the side, shattering her ribs as the spear penetrated deeply. Both cats writhed on the ground, the she cat screaming out twice before her body movements slowed. They both finally stilled, their heads oddly close together in death as they had often been in life.

The boys approached slowly and cautiously. The spotted deer yearling was a fresh kill. Her neck showed signs of the assault that had felled her, but other than her torn out underbelly she was in good enough shape to steal and take back to camp for food.

Mortan cut the throats of both lynx, and allowed them to bleed out while Brug gutted the deer. Mortan went ahead and gutted the lynx, and the boys set up two spears to use to carry all three carcasses back to camp. It was a heavy load with a spear shaft on each shoulder, but the strong young hunters weren't about to leave anything behind. Their pride and determination made the walk back to camp a little less of a chore.

**********

Etra hurried out of the tent, she looked around and spotted Brenan and Vincavec sitting at the far western fire with Tressie. The three of them were drinking tea and talking quietly, but they gave Etra their full attention when she knelt down in front of them. Her signs were hurried and hard for them to comprehend.

'There is a problem with "Aba". She cannot move her over half her body.'

Tressie understood the gist, and hopped to her feet and hurried toward the tent. Etra was right on her heels, with Vincavec and Brenan following right behind them.

Aba lay on top of two sleeping furs, partially covered by a third and Tressie knelt beside her. Whatever was amiss was serious, she realized quickly, even Aba's face looked to be slightly distorted somehow.

Tressie made a quick sign of greeting and touched Aba's right shoulder gently, the woman's deep brown eyes showed fear as Tressie looked down into them.

'Tell me if can feel this.' Tressie signed with her free hand, and Aba nodded. Tressie saw that even this subtle movement was somehow lop sided and askew.

Tressie squeezed the thick flesh of Aba's shoulder, watching her face as she did. Aba remained motionless. Tressie reached across her and squeezed her other shoulder, Aba nodded weakly.

Vincavec, Brenan, and Etra watched Tressie work in silence. She was efficient and thorough as she worked her way around Aba's prone body.

The examination continued slowly and meticulously. Tressie pulled open her tunic, and worked her way down over Aba's slightly swollen belly. Aba had lost all feeling and power of movement on the entire right side of her body, from her head to her toes. Even her chest seemed to be split in half, Aba had feeling on one side but not the other.

"I have never seen anything quite like this." Vincavec said.

"Me either." Brenan said, shaking his head slowly with sad eyes.

"I'm going to get Matera." Vincavec said getting up, he took one last look at Aba's frightened face, noting the deep set fear in her eyes, and walked out of the tent.

**********

"...it's like nothing I have ever seen before, it is like she has broken half her body." Brenan said looking over to Tressie. She looked down at the ground in front of her and two fat tears dropped into the grass below.

The healers sat in a rough circle discussing Aba and the strange turn of events that had beset her overnight. Mog-ur and Talut were in attendance as well, with Branag and Tornec beside them.

"It could be a temporary affliction, maybe it is caused because she has lost so much blood." Matera offered, thinking aloud.

Tornec had a hard time translating, it was hard for him to keep his mind on what he was doing with his head spinning from all the information he was being exposed to. Who had ever heard of someone losing all feeling in half their body, he wondered, the very thought of this was frightening beyond his comprehension.

"It's possible, but if that is the cause what can we do about it?" Vincavec said, obviously deep in thought.

It got quiet for a long, uncomfortable time as the healers all looked at each other for answers that wouldn't come. A small commotion from the southeastern side of the camp caused them to all look over. Brug and Mortan were returning from their morning hunt, and whatever they were carrying had several of the men excited.

Branag got up quickly. "I have to talk to Brug." Branag walked away slowly, wondering how to tell the young man that his mother was in trouble—bad trouble.

The Mog-ur watched Branag go, grateful for the closeness between the two of them. Brug had already lost the man of his hearth, and his young life had been hard enough thus far without this. Was this all part of Ursus' plan, he wondered, another test for Brug? I must meditate on this, his thoughts continued, there must be a reason that Brug has been so severely tested so many times.

**********

'You are a fine man, and a fine hunter.' Aba signed feebly, she was able to move her left hand still, but very little else. Her hand lay across her chest, and she could feel her remaining strength waning fast. 'No mother was ever blessed with a finer son.'

Brug held her right hand, squeezing it tightly as he sat beside her. Aba could not feel it, but she drank in every detail of her sons face as he looked down on her. He was such a handsome young man, she thought with pride, so much like the man of his hearth that had been so good to the both of them.

Aba felt a strange, light feeling begin to envelope her. For a brief, fleeting moment, she could feel her entire body again, warm and alive and without pain. Brug's face began to blur before her, and she made one last sign with her weak left hand.

'Walk with Ursus, my son.'

Brug saw the feeble sign and the watched as the spark of life left her, and her deep brown eyes sparkled one last time, just for him. He felt as if he couldn't move, and squeezed her hand tighter. A loneliness like he had never felt before washed over him in a sudden rush, and Brug's shoulders began to tremble. He shut his eyes tightly and took a deep breath, his chest quivered with the effort. Brug felt all his strength leaving, and a numbness setting in all over him. He leaned forward and draped his body over Aba's chest, wrapping his arms around her. For a moment, the warmth of her body gave him a familiar comfort, a feeling he knew he would never know again.

**********

Mog-ur conducted the funeral service for Aba with Latie assisting him. The burial mound of stones was set in a small clearing to the north of the camp. Two fires burned on each side of them, and another well behind the gathering of people in front of the mound. Brug stood at the front of assembly with Mortan beside him, with Rug and Branag flanking the both of them. Mortan had his arm around Brug's shoulders.

'...and take this worthy woman into your protection, and give her a bright hearth fire in the sky.' Mog-ur signed with such elegance that he almost seemed to be floating above the ground. He stretched his arms up to the skies, and looked up into the host of bright stars. Mog-ur held this pose for a long time. The weeping of several women of the Others was the only sound other than the soft drumming as the men of both races stomped their feet rhythmically.

'Walk with Ursus, and know that you carry a piece of our spirit with you to the spirit world, woman of the "Clan". Mog-ur signed with a flourish, then made a slight motion to Brug.

Brug took a deep breath, and walked forward to the burial cairn alone. He placed a single yellow flower on the top of the stones, and dropped to one knee. Brug reached out and laid his hand on the flat rocks, feeling the coldness of the stone.

'Walk with Ursus, mother.' He signed, then took a deep breath and stood up. Brug started at the mound of rocks for another moment, then turned and walked back through the gathering. His head was held high and his body was straight and proud, but Brug's heart was heavy.

**********

As the first light of day, they moved on. Starting well before dawn, they broke camp and packed up for the days travel. Ludeg led them through the trees to the southeast, winding through the shadowed clearings.

The pace set was slower than it had been before, and the entire group was quiet and subdued as they put the campsite slowly behind them. Rymar reclined in the back of a sledge, his leg still too sore to walk for any extended length of time. The other injured people did the best they could to keep up, but with the slower, more relaxed pace it wasn't too hard on any of them.

At a wide, shallow creek, they stopped for a mid day meal and rest. The tree cover was beginning to thin a little, and the walking got easier as it did. The ground was covered with thick, short stemmed grass that was obviously a favored food of deer, antelope, aurochs, and other grazers by all the signs they left behind. With these animals in such apparent abundance, the signs of predators were also everywhere.

Up ahead through the scattered trees, the ground looked to level out a little more to the south with a range of hills showing up to the east. The trees started again at the base of the hills, but the wide flats in front of them were nothing but grass and a few scattered clumps of low lying brush.

Ludeg stopped at the last, short oak tree. Past this single tree, there was only grass and brush out in front of them. He looked to the west, judging about how much daylight was left as the sun dipped lower toward the horizon. Talut walked up beside him, still limping a little. His hip was much better, but this had been the first day of walking on it for any extended period of time and he was feeling it.

"Look." Ludeg said pointing to the southwest in the distance. Talut grinned as he spotted the animals on the far horizon and watched them.

A large herd of horses grazed in knee high, light green grass. Most horses of the steppes were light colored tans and varying shades of light brown, but many of these horses were a deep, dark brown and some of them looked almost black. The herd was split into two loose groups, the vast majority of them congregated to the east while a much smaller group kept to the west. A large, almost black horse kept a constant vigil between the groups but stayed closer to the larger herd, obviously the lead stallion protecting his turf from a group of young males.

Talut grinned, and said. "Let's stop here for the night."

**********

The healers had a lot of work to do, and set up a small fire to heat potions and salves between two of the tents. All the injured were healing well, and everyone was doing fine even after a long days walk. The circle of people to be treated was dominated by Talut. He was upbeat and constantly telling everyone how great they were doing, and his optimism and sense of humor was infectious.

Rymar was able to get around pretty well with the aid of the crutch, but walking without it was still out of the question. Wymez stayed close to him, helping him as needed. Their friendship had been strong ever since this journey had begun, and only grown stronger as time went by.

Nezzie organized an effort to put together a huge hanging skin of stew. It wasn't long before the tantalizing aromas began to torture them all. Close to sunset when it was finally served, the stew fulfilled its promise, it was delicious.

Branag and Brug paired up and took the first watch on the south and east side of the camp with Brenan and Salen walking the north and west. The sky was clear with a bright quarter moon surrounded by a glistening host of stars. Branag had his hand on Brug's shoulder as they walked the perimeter.

When they got back to the small fire, they sat down and added some limbs of dead fall. The flames popped and sputtered as the fresh wood caught fire, and the firelight grew, illuminating Brug's stern looking face. Branag pulled the boy closer, holding him tightly to his side.

"Aba" was good woman, I will miss too.' Branag signed with one hand. 'You are man now, a hunter. Must be strong. You belong to my hearth now—my son.'

Brug watched the crude signs he was so used to seeing, understanding Branag perfectly through the slight butchering of the language. He knew that Branag would always be there for him and he was glad of it, but the pain of losing Aba was still so fresh. Brug had lost a lot in his young life, but to lose your mother was the hardest blow yet.

'I will always be the son of your hearth. You are all I have.' Brug signed, and leaned into Branag a little more. For once, the effort of always holding his emotions in check and hidden from the world as a good Clan man should evaporated. Brug's breath was ragged and slightly gasping as he struggled to control his feelings. The strong arm of Branag held him all the tighter.

Branag signed again, as slowly and as carefully as he could, he wanted to be understood completely without question. 'This is your "Clan", all people here are your family. We grow old together, you, me.'

Brug understood, taking comfort from the words of this man that was so dear to him. The pain of losing his mother lessened for just a moment, but Brug knew it would never go away.

**********

Heavy dark smoke rose up from the main camp fire and the three smaller perimeter fires in the light sunlight of the early morning sun. Grass and dung made for very smoky fires, but there was little else to burn now, so far out into the low lying grasslands. They had cut due south to skirt the edge of the line of hills to the east, after scouting the flat lands from the top of one of the lightly wooded hills. The grassy plain still stretched far out before them, but they could see the jagged tops of a tree line that just barely distorted the smooth horizon to the southeast. They had left the line of low wooded hills far behind them to the southeast, the hills had played out and blended into the smooth, grassy steppes several days ago. It had been six days since they buried Aba, and they had burned every bit of daylight traveling ever since.

With the amount of noise they made and as large a group as it was, most of the herds of the steppes gave them a wide berth. Hunting them would have taken an extraordinarily major effort, and they didn't want to take the time to even attempt it. Smoke from the daily fires made all the grazing animals extra wary, and they kept their distance. Even the harder to spot predators were seldom actually seen, though signs of their existence were in abundance.

The mixture of grasses here was a little different than any of them were used to seeing. The vastly predominate grass was a light green, thin leafed, knee to thigh high grass with a thin center stem holding up a sparse splay of small seeds. Two other types of grass took hold in the areas between the taller grass' dominance. Both of these grew considerably shorter, neither rising up much past ankle high. One was a deep green with fat leaves and it tended to grow in wide, thick clumps. The other was a thin stranded, light green grass that spread out in wide, thin strips between the other two types of grass. It had an odd looking seed spread off three small outreaching stem extensions from a wispy top stem. These seeds were almost too small to see.

Many varieties of small bushes popped up in scattered places, mostly scrub brush made up of thick, pointy leafed bushes. Some of these had colorful berries, some had small flowers, but most appeared to be rather sparse from being eaten back close to the craggy centers. Every now and then, a clump of brush would be pretty much intact. The leaves either to sharply pointed or simply not looked upon as a decent food choice with all the other available prime choices in the area.

Though well past their prime, a few wild flowers existed, mostly ones with small yellow flowers whose petals were sagging or littering the ground around the plants. Scattered clumps of untouched nettles with their occasional white blooms with deep orange centers. Their heavily thorned stems and leaves added dots of white to the predominately green background.

The grass lands here had been thinned almost to bare earth in many places, usually in long streaks by herds of grazing animals. The different species of animals that fed here had different preferences though, and the long areas eaten down grasses varied. The second growth of the season had filled in the most bare spots with short new growth. The land was a veritable tapestry of varying shades of green and tans that glistened in the early morning dew.

**********

Tulie walked over to Talut and a small group of the walking wounded at the main camp fire, they were drinking tea and discussing the progress of the healing of their wounds. Tressie, Etra, and Brenan checked and tended wounds on one side of the fire, while Matera and Vincavec worked the other.

"Talut, we are almost out of water." She said with a concerned look on her face when she was able to break into the conversation gracefully. Her words garnered more attention from the loose group than she anticipated, and she went on, addressing them all.

"We have three large skins and four smaller skins left. With care it will stretch for two or three more days at best."

Talut cocked his head in thought, fingering the scraggly red and grey streaked tip of his beard that pointed down off the bottom of his chin. He sat on the grass, naked from the waist down with Etra cleaning the wound on his injured hip. Talut had stopped trimming his beard a moon or so back, letting it grow in long and full in the anticipation of the colder weather to come. He glanced around him while he considered the new problem.

Vincavec looked over at him from the opposite side of the fire where he had been watching and assisting as Tressie worked on Danug's arm. They were just finishing up. He considered this new problem as well while wringing out a small square of rabbit skin over the bowl of yellow antiseptic solution. Vincavec handed the square to Tressie who handed him back the one she had just finished using.

"I guess we can send out runners to look for any standing ground water, with all the wildlife out here there must be some nearby—somewhere." Talut said, pulling the hair on his chin into a colorful point.

"We can always dig for water in the next low spot." Vincavec suggested, scratching the side of his head as he spoke.

"Why don't we just do a search, it would save time and effort." Matera asked as she looked up from wrapping a wide band of rabbit skin around Frebec's thick thigh. Frebec winced as Matera tied it off with a thin cord of leather on each end of the wrap and gave her a slightly dirty look, Matera either missed it or simply ignored it.

"I'd rather walk." Brenan added without looking up from Rymar's calf, he was wiping the long, curved narrow scab on one side of the leg where the skin was stitched together with a rag soaked in an antiseptic solution. The scabs were starting to break up in a few places, and the skin left behind was bright pink and healthy looking between the stitches.

Vincavec chuckled at Brenan's reluctance to participate in anything metaphysical. Matera looked over and gave Brenan a sly, knowing grin herself, it wasn't the first time Brenan had shied away from this type of thing. Vincavec winked at Matera, then a slightly devious look spread over his face slowly.

"That's all right Brenan, I'm sure Latie will go in your stead." Vincavec said, grinning now.

Brenan scowled and looked up at Vincavec's tattooed face that grinned that familiar, almost sarcastic looking grin aimed only at him. Vincavec was always able to goad him into this kind of stuff. Vincavec knew that he wouldn't let Latie go without him, he was just too protective of his mate to allow it. Brenan grumbled something inaudible under his breath that only Rymar could hear, and shook his head when Rymar laughed with him.

Latie approached with Bralut cradled under one arm and several strips of de-haired leather in her other hand. The baby boy had a sizable lock of Latie's reddish blonde hair in one hand and a tight grip on a fold of her tunic in his other. Bralut pulled the handful of hair toward his mouth and made a face like he tasted something bitter when he bit into it. Strands of hair stuck to his lips and tongue when he pulled the lock away from his mouth, Bralut tried to push the rest of the hair out of his mouth with his tongue. The faces he made were hilarious, and more than a few giggled watching his cute antics.

"This lynx hide cured out really soft, see if it is pliable enough to use for bandage wrappings." Latie said as she walked up to Matera, handing one of them out to her.

Matera took the skin and examined it with her fingers, smiling. "This is lynx?"

Latie grinned. "Yes, Inca and Ova worked the hides. They cut the scraps into strips and shaved the hair off them with the new flint scrapers Wymez made them. They are busy making tunics for Brug and Mortan out of the large pieces."

"I have never felt skins this soft, except from the typical smaller animals before." Matera said, pressing the skin against her cheek and smiling at the incredible smoothness.

"The women of the Clan work hides better than anyone I have ever seen, they even put Ayla's work to shame." Latie answered. Bralut spit the last of the hair out of his mouth and tugged on Latie's tunic as he leaned back away from her chest. Latie pulled the heavy little boy back closer to her chest, his eyes sparkling as he pulled her tunic open and he leaned his face toward her breast.

Tulie smiled at this, watching the conversation from the other side of the fire. She had thought the same thing herself many times about the expertise of the Clan women's skills working hides. Tulie still had a full, uncut snow leopard skin that Ayla had given her, but even it wasn't as soft and smooth as skins that these Clan women had worked and cured. As many times as Tulie had started to make a tunic out of it, she never could quite bring herself to cut it up.

**********

Crag led Brug and Mortan back into camp from the southeast. Both boys had two geese draped across their chests, their heads tied together behind their necks. Crag had a single goose dangling from his belt by the neck, it bounced off his thigh with every step he took.

Rug saw them coming, and looked over his shoulder to Tressie to see if she was finished working on him. Tressie nodded and Rug got up from his seat in the grass, making a sign of thanks to Tressie, and walked toward the returning hunters.

Troog and Ludeg saw them returning as well, and both walked out to greet them. Ludeg grinned, wondering where they found geese in the middle of the grassy steppes.

The men caught up with the returning hunters outside the smoke of the southeastern perimeter fire. Brug pulled the pair of geese from off his shoulders, then swing them back and forth at his side before tossing them at Ludeg. Ludeg caught one of the large birds by the foot, and pulled it up to look the both of them over, laughing at Brug all the while.

'Where did you fine the geese, is there a body of water nearby?' Rug signed, watching Crag pull the goose free from his belt.

'There is a wide, shallow depression to the southeast. It has knee deep water and a strange grass growing from it.' Crag signed in return. 'It may be fed by a creek, but we didn't explore it.'

'Is the water drinkable?'

'I don't know, it may need to be boiled first, it didn't look to be all that clear.' Crag answered, wondering why he was being asked.

"Nice birds, you didn't use your new spears?" Ludeg asked, seeing the large wounds in the geese.

"No, we didn't think to take them with us." Mortan said, grinning at the older hunter. "They were walking around on the ground near the edge of the water eating grass seeds. There were lots of them, we snuck up on two different groups of them."

"Trull-ee" says we need water.' Rug signed. 'Let's go see if there is a creek feeding that pond.'

Rug turned back toward the fire and called out a single word in his loud, deep voice. "Trall-ut!"

**********

By the time they were ready to go back to the pond, a rather large group of men and women had gathered. They all carried water skins along with their usual compliment of weapons. This time, Brug and Mortan did carry their new spears in their quivers hung over their shoulders.

This was the first day since they entered the steppes that the camp didn't move on at the break of day. The travelers that didn't go on the quest for water took full advantage of it, and neglected chores and half finished projects were broken out all over the camp. Nezzie and Inca took a hard look at their remaining food supplies.

**********

When they reached the pond, most of them were surprised at how long, narrow and shallow it was. The water was greenish and somewhat murky in most places, and it smelled funny. Definitely not ideal for drinking or cooking with, so they followed the barely defined shoreline around to the northeast.

The slight depression began to level out gradually, and no real source of the water was found. There was no creek, no obvious spring. It was even hard to tell where the natural edges of the pond usually stopped.

At the northeastern most point, the ground was devoid almost completely of grass cover, and the bare ground was dark with bare dirt and sticky brown mud. Even the grass that grew at the edge of the bare patch was brown and dead looking, having been eaten down to just above the ground.

Animal tracks were abundant in the mud, this was obviously a well used watering hole. Lion tracks got their attention, and Ludeg and Troog took up positions as guards to allow the others to figure out what they needed to do next.

"We'll need to boil this water before it can be used for much of anything." Vincavec said, looking up to Talut standing next to him.

"You're right." Talut looked over the group and increased the volume of his voice when he went on. "All right people, let's fill 'em up. We'll have to carry as much as we can back to camp, it looks like we'll be here for a while."

**********

The main camp fire burned hot and smoky. Two stew skins had been set up on the edges of the flames two thirds full of water. The process was slow and tedious, keeping the fire constantly stoked up with grass and dung was an enormous job all in itself. According to Vincavec and Matera, the water had to boil for a rather long time before the dangerous impurities would all be released. It looked to be an all day job, maybe more.

A few crews were sent out after brush and more dried dung, and they worked steadily through the morning and well into the afternoon. The green limbs of the brush they cut burned hot, but everything they had to fuel the fire with smoked something awful. The light, sporadic breeze carried the smoke in odd directions, and no single place in the entire camp was immune from being engulfed in the choking smoke from time to time.

As each water bag was emptied into one of the two hanging skins, they were washed out with freshly boiled, still steaming water augmented with crushed marigold petals. It was a long, drawn out process.

By dusk, a little over half the water bags were filled with freshly boiled drinkable water. It was apparent now that they were losing a hefty percentage of the water they had brought in, and at least one more trip back to the pond would be necessary.

When the sun just touched the far western horizon, the roar of a cave lion echoed out across the steppes from the south. It was followed by two more from the same place, and everyone in the camp felt it as well as they heard it, even from such a great distance away. Though the lions themselves were too far away to be seen in the slightly diminishing light, a small band of aurochs were spotted fleeing to the east at the far edge of their vision to the south.

A third hanging skin simmered at the edge of the fire with a thick stew of dried megaceros and aurochs meat. It was the second time today that it would be used to feed the camp, refilled and supplied with additional ingredients.

The last of the small carrots and dried mushrooms floated to the top of the thick mix, and Nezzie and Inca kept it all stirred with Ooga's constant help. Ova sliced up half of their remaining apples, overall the supplies of food were rapidly dwindling. A few skins of grain and some small ground roots and one last half bag of cattails were all the vegetable stores that were left. The supply of dried meat was almost half gone, but there was still an ample supply to last many more days.

Darkness fell as the stew was served, and another long, hard day finally ended.

**********

Four days later, the tree line was close. One more day and they would be out of the vast grass lands. Having rationed their water, they still had an ample supply for a few more days, but their food supplies were almost gone.

Brug and Mortan had kept them supplied with a little fresh meat from their morning hunting forays, but their efforts had been sparse and almost futile the last two days. This morning all they had brought back were two hares, yesterday a single rabbit was all they brought back.

Everyone was anxious to get out of the steppes and back into a different type of landscape. Late afternoon clouds blew in on the southeastern breeze, and with it came a strange, but oddly familiar smell.

**********

They pushed on toward the trees ahead, and the tall grass that had been so common all around them slowly thinned into a sizable, long narrow stand of oats. Though past their prime, and grazed heavily, there were plenty of the fat seeds left that just begged to be gathered. Talut called a halt for the day to take advantage of the find even though there was still a little daylight left. All those not needed to help set up the camp went out in pairs to harvest the leftover oats with cheerful abandon.

Ludeg took Salen and Brenan off in search of fuel for the fires, and to explore the scattered brush that began well before the trees did. They were all tired of burning grass and dried dung, and with the brush available, the potential fuel they could gather looked to be worthwhile. The trio found many mostly stripped bushes that yielded a fair amount of small wood for the fires, and flushed a pair of small spotted deer from a heavy clump of deep green colored brush. The deer had been bed down in the center of the heavy brush that was covered with the deep green spiky leaves that were stiff and sharp to the touch.

Salen was quick with his spear thrower and put a spear into the lower portion of the neck of the heavier, larger doe as the two of them fled to the south. She was hit well but still ran for quite a little way before falling. Brenan went with Salen to fetch her while Ludeg chopped more fuel from the thicker, lower branches of the outside most bushes. He used the short tool with the long narrow flint head that was only sharpened on one side to strip off the twigs that held all the stiff pointed leaves. Ludeg built up a nice size pile before Salen and Brenan returned with the field dressed deer swaying gently between them from a pair of spears they held on their shoulders.

To the west along a spattering of scattered brush, a small herd of horses grazed on the tall grass. Far enough away to see no direct threat from the intruding humans, they kept a watchful eye on the camp. It appeared to be a gathering of young and older males, possibly some of the horses they had seen shadowing the large herd from the day before. There was no obvious dominant animal, but they hung together for the safety and relative protection that only numbers could give.

**********

The light breeze waned throughout the evening as darkness settled in over them, and the sky was littered with almost stationary, fluffy white clouds suspended high in the sky. The nearly full moon shone brightly, partially obstructed between two clouds as it rose slowly higher and higher, glowing softly through the billowy edges of the northern most cloud. Brilliant stars created obliquely shaped designs as they glowed in streaks surrounding the puff ball clouds that otherwise darkened the sky.

The spotted deer made for quite a feast, and a thick mash was made from the first of the harvested oats served as an additional treat. The mood of the camp was vastly improved by the extraordinarily tasty meal and the prospect of getting off the steppes some time the next day. Other than the perimeter guards, only Inca and Tulie stayed up, tending the deer as it finished cooking. Everyone else made an early night of it, all knowing that they would be striking out before first light in the morning.

Night sounds from the animals of the steppes were accented by the sounds of the animals within the cover of the trees. Owls hooting and screeching, the yipping of a pair of hunting fox, a single dhole yipping at the moon, all were sounds they had not heard for a while. The familiarity of them all almost sounded comforting now. The cackling of hyenas echoed across the flat lands from somewhere well behind them, and the thundering hooves of a herd of some kind retreating soon followed.

Near dawn, the triumphant scream of a snow leopard rang out from the vicinity of where the horses had bed down for the night to the west. Rumbling hoof beats echoed away from the camp in the distance, and the leopard screamed out one last time. The silence in the darkness hung over the steppes for a long time following the screaming roar of the leopard.

**********

The camp got an early start well before dawn, enjoying a hot first meal of venison and leftover, re-heated oat mash. It was very brisk and cool this morning, almost cold in fact as the travelers donned heavier wraps for the day. The stillness in the air hung heavily all around them, allowing the colder air to envelope them, giving almost everyone a fresh shot of almost frisky energy.

As the sun came up and warmed the morning slowly, parkas and heavy tunics were stashed into the sledges in favor of lighter clothes. The trees ahead grew steadily closer, and the ground seemed to slowly rise a little in elevation as the tress grew thicker. Oddly, the trees they could see looked to be shorter than they were used to seeing.

This was the first morning that Rymar wasn't riding in the back of a sledge, and his arm was getting sore from the wooden crutch he used to help him walk. He kept up pretty well for a while, walking with Wymez and Talut who still showed the lingering signs of a slight limp. As the morning wore on though, it got harder and harder for Rymar to keep up with the relaxed pace set by the rest of them and he started falling back a little at a time.

By the time they stopped for a mid day bite to eat, Talut talked Rymar into riding in the sledge for the rest of the day. It didn't take too much convincing, Rymar knew he would never be able to keep up as tired as he was from his morning exertions. He was glad to have walked for as long as he had though, but great Mother was his arm ever sore, it hurt worse than his injured leg.

Tressie examined his leg, and wrapped it back up before they all set out again. The wounds were healing well.

**********

They passed the first short trees, and the landscape began to change. The grasses here were shorter and grew in smaller patches, brush and clumps of briars were common, and the trees ahead were indeed shorter and stockier with heavily leafed branches. Many of the leaves were changing colors, and the greens blended into tans, amber, and even reds. The soil changed as well, small patches of light colored bare sandy loams intermixed with the darker browns of the steppes they were leaving behind.

Moving through the scattered woods the ground rose slowly and gradually, the walking was still easy and they made good time. The cloud cover was moving again now, and the ground level breeze picked up carrying with it the strangely familiar smell. The air even tasted different, tangy and slightly salty.

When Ludeg and Talut reached the apex of the gentle rise, they stopped to behold the awesome sight that stretched out before them. The low rolling hills before them flattened into sandy dunes and the trees thinned out and disappeared all together. It didn't take long for the entire band of travelers to be crowded around them, no one spoke for the longest time.

No more than half day's walk out in front of them, the land ended. Brilliant blue-green water stretched out as far as the eye could see, white topped waves broke gently onto a smooth, light colored sand beach.


	21. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

_**The Sea**_

The sun rose slowly over the eastern horizon, coloring the high floating billowing clouds with soft pastels from pink to orange. The tops of the gentle waves caught the angled light, accenting the whitecaps with light hues of yellows and oranges. A few gulls mewed and floated effortlessly and gracefully on the gentle currents in the dim light, while others stood or walked along the edge of the surf. The soft sounds of the waves breaking on the shoreline whispered in the new day.

Brug and Mortan scampered along the beach gathering crabs. Each boy wore only a small wrap tied around their waist and had a sack made of netting thrown over their shoulders, both sacks were filling up quickly. They stayed close enough to the water to prevent the crabs from escaping into the surf, and working together the method they had perfected over the last three days continued to reap grand results.

A loose group of seagulls fluttered all around the boys. Soaring over them, dipping down between them and watching for any spare tidbits. They mewed constantly, and those on the ground ran ahead and behind them taking flight if either boy got too close. It looked like a graceful, slow motion dance, that could only have been choreographed by the Mother Herself.

Brenan and Branag sat in the sand up from the shoreline, their young sons in their laps, watching the hunters at work. The soft sea breeze blowing into their faces as the light of day increased slowly around them, and they enjoyed the serenity of the morning.

Bralut reached up toward the sky, doing his best to grab the fading orange of the edge of a small fluffy cloud above. His pudgy fingers opening and closing, grabbing at the soft, colorful shapes floating above.

"Looks like boiled crab for the first meal." Brenan said softly, not wishing to spoil the soft sounds of the peaceful morning.

"Well, that will be something new." Branag said with a sarcastic chuckle, as if the camp had not feasted on boiled crabs for the last three days in a row.

Brydag tugged on Branag's beard, grinning up at him when Branag looked down at the fat boy with an over exaggerated scowl. Brydag tugged all the harder, squinting his eyes and cooing softly. Branag poked his belly and Brydag's hands dropped to grab Branag's fingers. The little boys grip was firm, and Branag waved his hand back and forth in front of Brydag's face causing Brydag to giggle.

Mortan took off running up the beach, Brug watched him go while trying to coax a blue crab that was clamped down on his finger, into the sack. Brug looked out in front of Mortan, trying to figure out just what he was chasing. Up ahead, he saw a sea turtle struggle toward the water. Clumsy and slow on the sand, his legs were not a very efficient means of propulsion until he made it into the water where he would again be graceful and quick. The turtle won the race, but not by much. Neither boy carried spears, and the turtle slid into the waves and out of sight as Mortan arrived.

"No turtle soup today." Branag said, smiling at Mortan who stood at the waters edge with his hands on his hips watching the turtle escape.

"Not for a first meal anyway." Brenan said in answer as Bralut wiggled in his lap.

**********

The next six days passed pretty much as the previous three had. Breaking camp late following a first meal of fresh seafood, and traveling until mid to late afternoon before stopping for the night.

The travelers kept the pace relaxed and measured, it was getting a little harder to travel throughout the duration of the available daylight now for some of them. The women who were pregnant had slowed incrementally as their bellies had swelled. The Clan women as well as Regan and Fralie were within two moons or so from giving birth. This time around, Fralie had handled her pregnancy very well. She was stronger and in better physical shape and the adverse effects of her last pregnancy was not in evidence at all. No one was happier about this than Frebec, though he still doted over her shamelessly as if she were weak and helpless.

Nezzie was two moons or so behind the rest of them, but she had actually lost weight during her pregnancy. Nezzie had always been a rather robust woman who carried a lot of body fat on her wide frame. The exercise of constant travel had leaned her up considerably, and the effects of her own pregnancy had actually helped her to lose weight while the other women gained.

Matera was just about as far along as Nezzie, and though she and Nezzie were both a little older than the other women who were expecting, she was doing very well. She had lost quite a bit of weight off her rather voluptuous frame initially, but as she got into better traveling shape her body firmed up as well. Now she had a nice belly bulge and her already large breasts had grown even larger, but her previously softly toned legs and arms were now well muscled and hard. Vincavec had a lot of fun with her revised form, and if she weren't already blessed she definitely would be by now with all the attention she got between the furs from him.

The general health of the entire camp was incredibly fit and able, and for the most part getting even better. Even amongst the oldest of the travelers, they all felt better than they had in years. Wymez and the Mog-ur could keep up with the rest of the group without pressing themselves unduly, and even Rymar was showing almost daily improvement from his wounds.

The closeness that had begun so subtly when Danug was injured had increased steadily between him and Tressie. Danug had even drawn out the attention he got from the young, pretty healer by asking for a little more attention to his wound than was really needed or necessary. It was something that Talut and Nezzie had watched from a distance with hope, and often some amusement. Danug had never really shown much interest in the fairer sex, not with any sincerity up until now, anyway.

Deegie had the sneaking suspicion that she had been blessed by the Mother again. She had kept her presumptions to herself so far, but Deegie had missed her last moon time and she had felt a little bit of occasional morning sickness of late. So far, Branag hadn't noticed anything out of the usual.

Though most of the wounded were in good enough shape now to keep up an all day pace, Rymar was not. He walked without the aid of the crutch, but his stamina was depleted much more easily than it had been before he was hurt though he improved steadily. The leg itself was healing nicely, by the muscles stayed sore from the daily exertions.

With all the bounty they were able to secure from the sea on a daily basis, it seemed a waste to not to take full advantage of it. Whenever they were able to catch a more of the larger fish than they could eat in their nets, they took the time to dry the extra meat to replenish their low food supplies. Vegetables were scarce close to the sea, so they made occasional foraging runs inland to keep themselves supplied with greens and roots. Slowly but surely their traveling stores were put back into a reasonably sized stash.

Along the coast, the steadily cooling weather was blunted slightly and the effects of the fall were felt a little more gradually than they had been further inland. The warm salty winds that came off the water were pleasant enough, but the impending change of season was definitely in the air.

**********

A craggy outcrop of rock reached far out into the surf up ahead of them as they walked almost casually at the edge of the sandy beach. Heavy tree cover flanked the exposed rock to either side inland, but the trees faded out as the bare sand began. The breakwater had been visible for most of the morning, and now it was close enough to have the entire camp excited about the possibilities it offered.

Brug and Mortan took off ahead to check it out. Ludeg and Brenan followed them, but neither of the grown men were compelled to run.

Brug hopped up on a deep grey rock, and looked down the breakwater. Mortan joined him, and they started hopping from rock to rock working their way out. Brug stopped and pointed down into the water. Mortan followed where he was pointing. A huge cluster of crustaceans covered the rocks all the way up past the surface of the water, the tide was ebbing. Mortan grinned, and they moved on down the rocky formation.

"Brug!" Mortan said under his breath, pointing down the rocks at a dark shape that stood out in the grey rocks.

They watched together, seeing the strange looking movement as the dark shape swam between and around the rocks that jutted out into the water. It was hard to get a good look at it, but whatever it was had a long tail.

'Is it an otter?' Brug signed.

'Maybe.' Mortan answered, then used his throwing spear to push on a wide shell firmly attached to the rock they stood on. The shell didn't budge, and Mortan didn't want to take a chance of damaging the sharp flint tip so the boys moved on hopping from rock to rock.

Brenan and Ludeg stood at the shore, watching the two boys as they worked their way farther and farther out. The rock formation was huge, and it rose up over twice their height here on shore.

"We should probably see what's on the other side of this." Ludeg said, gazing up at the jagged rocks.

"Yeah, but I don't want to let the boys out of sight—let's wait until the others catch up." Brenan answered, knowing they would have to go all the way around the formation to get past it. He looked back inland, seeing the trees encroach and wondered how far it went.

Ludeg nodded, and turned back and watched Mortan point excitedly into the water as Brug looked beside him. Their youthful enthusiasm was catching as always, and both men considered walking out to join them.

**********

"...it is a good place to stop for a few days, besides we do need to get more food preserved and gathered." Talut was saying, addressing a loose group near where the breakwater pushed out into the sea.

"But I want to know what's on the other side of this." He continued, raising his arm up at the tall mound of jagged rock.

The rock formation here at the beach was four or five times as tall as Talut, and formidable in its rugged appearance. The majority of the rocks were huge, with smaller boulders intermixed almost as if the Mother Herself had pushed the ground together and forced this mound of stones up from the depths. A few scattered bushes and weeds grew from cracks and depressions in the stones, but it was mostly barren of any plant life at all.

"I'd feel better if we checked it out, I'm growing weary of unpleasant surprises too." Brenan said, and looked over to Danug who was busy staring at Tressie who was kneeling down and checking out Rymar's injured leg. "Danug, want to come with me?"

Danug jumped at the sound of his name, and Talut laughed aloud at his huge strapping son whose face reddened as he looked over to Brenan. He stammered something that was hard to understand and looked down at the ground. Draag walked up to him and put his hand on Danug's arm, and motioned for him to follow. They walked back over to the second sledge together and pulled out their scabbards of spears from where they were stored at the front.

"Let's go ahead and make camp here, but lets go inland far enough to get out of the sand." Vincavec said, pointing over to where the grass started to the north.

**********

The six men followed the rocks inland, the overall height of the mound seemed to be diminishing slowly, but it ran for as far as they could see from here. Short, stocky trees were scattered all around and the grass cover was thin, but consistent. They selected a place that looked easier than what they had seen so far, and began climbing, taking their time with the difficult footing. They stayed fairly spread out, not wanting to crowd each other in two lines.

Danug found a crease in the stone above, and pulled himself up and over a large boulder. When he stood back up, he saw a good place to go next. Brenan and Ludeg followed him carefully.

Talut grunted as he hefted his massive weight up onto a boulder that was just over waist high. He almost lost his balance but Branag gave him a push from behind and he leaned forward and got up on his knees, grinning broadly. Draag followed the two of them nimbly, the incredible strength in his arms and legs making it easy for him to pull his heavy body up onto the rocks, one at a time. If there were any lingering effects of his injured shoulder slowing him down, it was not obvious.

**********

Brug and Mortan waited on Crag, their patience was being severely tested and it showed in their body language. Both of them had their fishing spears strapped across their backs and a single throwing spear in their hands. Crag sipped a cup of tea, staring out into the vastness of the blue-green sea.

A huge black and white osprey soared on the low winds off the water, his sharp eyes watching every ripple on the surface. The tips of the feathers in his wings curled in the wind, and his tail feathers twisted to keep him headed straight in the direction of his choice. With a subtle twist of his wide right wing and tail feathers, he changed direction and pulled his wings forward a little to slow his speed. In a movement that was so fast that it was hard to follow, he folded his wings pointing them behind him and dropped like an arrow into the water. The bird disappeared into the waves, then the water exploded as the osprey burst up and back into flight with a bright silver mullet gripped firmly in his sharp, powerful talons. The mullet worked his mouth open and closed and waved his tail back and forth feebly as the osprey flew off to the east and out of sight past the ridge of rock.

Crag watched this fine exhibition of the osprey's hunting prowess with awe and more than a little appreciation of the skills shown. Patience, he thought to himself, watching the two boys out of the corner of his eye. They were fidgeting around and basically acting like the children that they in fact really still were. Learn patience, be like the osprey, he thought, sipping his tea.

**********

Danug reached back and gave his hand to Brenan, who used it to pull himself up onto the wide, flat rock. The rock sloped forward and Brenan felt like he could just slide off it at any moment, until he looked down to the bright green valley below.

"Wow, will you look at that." Ludeg said, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his tunic.

The six men stood silently in awe of the lush green valley below. It stretched for at least a full days walk along the coastline before the trees began further off to the east, and twice that distance back to the north. In both directions, the ground looked to rise up into gentle hills. The ridge of rock they were on gradually petered out somewhere in the cover of what looked to be a forest of willows and brush to the north, just how far was hard to judge.

Several moose waded thigh deep in the waters of the marsh that ran through the center of the valley, and beyond them was a small herd of old male bison. The marsh was surrounded by deep green grasses of several varieties. To the northern side of the marsh, aurochs grazed with several huge red deer just beyond them. A lone megaceros stood at the edge of the low slung branches of a wide willow, nibbling leaves.

Directly across the valley to the east, another rock formation jutted from the ground. This one was tiny compared to the one they were on, but it stuck out distinctly from the greens and blues of the valley. A monster of a brown bear gathered nuts or berries from the greenery on the left side of the rocks, sitting on his wide haunches.

"Well, I know what we're doing tomorrow." Talut said softly, grinning broadly. He could already taste the sizzling moose meat, hot and juicy—and so very filling.

"If that's the case, we better find a way around this ridge," Ludeg said. "We'll never get anything of any size over all this."

Danug took a long last look down at the moose, then over at the bear. He wondered what else was down there that they couldn't see.

**********

Crag watched, sitting on a nice flat rock just out of reach of the spray from the waves crashing into the rocks. Behind him, a small pool of water stood in a gap in the rocks, shells clinging to the sides under the level of the water.

Brug had his gaff tipped spear along with the coil of cord in place and ready as he worked his way south from rock to rock. Mortan was similarly outfitted, and both boys wore only a wrap around their waists. They would hop onto a rock, then sneak up to the edge of it looking down into the water for a target.

They made a very efficient team, having learned and hunted together for as long as they had. The silent communications between them wasn't all Clan signs, they knew each other well enough to read body language and subtle gestures, and even facial expressions.

Crag sat up and watched more closely, he could read their body language as well. They were on to something, and began a slow, stealthy stalk down the rocks. At least they are patient when they hunt, he thought with amusement.

Brug held his left hand out, the coil of cord dangling loosely, his spear held high and ready in his other hand. Mortan aped him, two steps to his right. They crept forward with such stealth it took a trained eye to see that they were moving at all.

In a sudden flash of movement, both hunters threw their spears. A moment later, both were struggling with the ends of their cords as they fought to pull in their catch.

Crag knew instantly that whatever they had speared had some serious size to it. Both boys fought hard to keep their balance and even looked to be having a hard time staying on the slick, wet rock. Mortan slipped and fell on his butt, and pulled back all the harder, laughing out loud. Brug pulled his cord in hand over hand, the muscles in his arms and legs rippling and flexing powerfully.

Brug reached down and pulled up a large, fat fish by the shaft of his spear that was mostly silver with bright red gills and a light red streaked neck with heavy looking scales. He tossed it in between the rocks behind him and with a single step, grabbed Mortan's cord and helped him haul in his fish. The second fish was just about the same size as the first, but had a little more red under its head. Both fish had been hit well with the spears, and it took the boys a little while to remove the spears. They had to pull the spears and the cords the rest of the way through the bodies of the fish, it wasn't easy.

Brug carried his fish with one hand by the gills, but it took both hands for Mortan. Though older, he was no where near as strong as the stocky young man of the Clan. Brug carried Mortan's spear with his own as they walked back to Crag. After showing off their catch, they dropped them into the small pool behind Crag, and went back to hunting. Crag watched the fish, one would be belly up shortly judging from his erratic movements, but the other may live a little while.

**********

None of the six men were paying enough attention, all of them had their minds on the fertile valley and not on what they were doing. They all had spears in their hands, but they were really just walking along to the north through the scattered trees and day dreaming of hunting moose. No one was really being very cautious at all of their surroundings, sights or sounds. Not even Ludeg who led them with Danug beside him, in fact they were talking about possible strategies for the hunt tomorrow.

The roar made them all jump. Danug was the first to see him, and it was all he could do not to turn and run. Between a willow and a small patch of brush, a saber tooth tiger fed on what was left of a deer of some kind, a large one. Blood dripped from his mouth and front legs as he stood up and took two quick steps forward and growled, then roared again. All tigers were large, but this one was the biggest any of them had ever seen. A male in his prime, and a magnificent specimen of his kind, this cat had obviously never know hunger at all judging by the size of him.

None of the scouts had spear throwers, but they all had full scabbards of throwing spears strapped across their backs. A standoff began, and the men pulled extra spears out, holding them with their free hands.

The tiger lurched forward another bounding step, and roared again. It was all any of them could do to stand still and hold their ground as he swiped a paw at them, bloody claws extended.

"Danug, Draag, we'll throw first. The rest of you be ready." Talut said, looking at Draag to make sure he understood the plan, he did. The three of them moved forward a step or two to get into position.

The tiger roared again, swiping at them menacingly again with his bloody paw.

They let fly almost as one. The power of these three men, possibly the strongest among all the men of the traveling band, showed in kind. Draag's spear hit the tiger full in the chest and Talut's spear hit just a hands width below that. Danug's spear hit the tiger in the flank, a grazing shot that spun him to his left and ripped a wide bloody wound as the spear penetrated the thick muscles of his rear leg. The double impact to the chest knocked the tiger another step sideways, almost taking him off his feet.

Brenan and Ludeg sighted in and let loose, hitting the cat in the side and in the neck. When Branag threw his spear, a loud pop of breaking bone was heard when it struck the tiger's right shoulder and the tiger hit the ground hard, snapping two spear shafts as he hit the ground. He roared out in pain, pulling at the spears in his chest with his sharp claws. The tiger rolled over and tried to get back on his feet, but Draag's next spear hit him in the throat just below his head and knocked him back down. He rolled as he hit the ground, and tried to roar a last time, but his strength was ebbing fast. The sounds that came from him wasn't really a roar, but more of a raspy wail. His movements slowed, and finally stopped.

From somewhere off to the east, a good distance away, a roar sounded. Even from far away it was easy enough to recognize it as similar to the roars of the tiger that now lay dead before them.

Talut wiped the sweat off his brow, lowering the tip of his spear to the ground. He took a deep breath, watching the tiger for any more signs of life. There were none.

**********

The succulent smells from the cooking fire permeated the camp with the steady, gentle sea breeze adding a salty tasting tang to the delectable scents of the cooking fish and the shoulder of the deer. A hanging stew skin of sea water simmered at the edge of the fire, with crabs occasionally bobbing to the surface, cooking slowly amongst thin strands of seaweed. The sky was still dotted with fluffy, puff ball clouds and together with the setting sun made for a colorful, serene background panorama of bright pastel colors.

"...we didn't find the far end of the rock mound, after coming across this brute we came on back." Danug said to Vincavec as the two of them dug the saber toothed tiger's claws out of his massive paws with their knives. "I guess we'll have to follow it on down in the morning to find a passage on through to the valley. I know Talut has his head set on hunting moose though, so I guess we'll be making an early go of it."

Vincavec grinned, fresh moose sounded good to him as well. "I'll take Rug and we'll scout out a place to cross, let Talut organize a hunt at dawn with whoever else wants to go."

Danug nodded his head, and with a firm tug wrenched the claw free and dropped it onto the tiger skin at his feet. His arm ached something fierce, and he looked back toward the fire. Tressie and Brenan sat huddled together with their medicine pouches open between them. Matera and Etra joined them, carrying their own bags and sat down with them. Danug grinned, watching as Tressie smiled at something Matera said. He noticed the swell of her breasts pushing against the light colored tunic she wore that was open in front. The slight movement of her breasts as she laughed caused a sudden uncomfortable swelling in his leggings.

Vincavec saw what Danug was staring at, and smiled at the smitten young man knowingly as he reached down and fumbled around with one hand to give his manhood a little more room in his leggings. When he looked back over at the healers, Vincavec couldn't help but to leer at Matera's swelling belly, and the sight of this made him smile all the more.

**********

The evening meal was a smashing success. It had been a while since there had been such nice variety of fine foods available, and it was savored accordingly. Talut and Danug both had more helpings than either of them cared to count, and there was still a lot left over when they were finally finished.

"I want to get an early start, who all wants to hunt moose in the morning?" Talut asked after burping loudly which got the attention of the majority of the camp. Most everyone sat around sipping tea and relaxing pleasantly full bellies.

A lot of people were quick to volunteer, but surprisingly, Mortan and Brug weren't among them. The young hunters had other ideas for their own morning hunt, Crag saw the look in their eyes and decided to stick around and keep an eye on them.

Vincavec told of his plan to explore on down the ridge to find a suitable place to cross with Rug who nodded his approval. Nezzie brought up a few chores that needed tending around the camp, and got several female volunteers, and a few of the older men offering their willingness to help. Matera mentioned that she and the other healers were low on a few specific supplies, and they would need to go foraging for fresh plants and roots to process.

Talut listened patiently, and when the general planning discussions for tomorrow died down, he began to lay out his ideas for the morning hunt.

**********

Mog-ur sat off to the side of the fire with little Ooga in his lap, watching the discussion through Tornec's constant translations. He couldn't help but to compare how these people of the Others opened their plans and ideas up to everyone to the much more stringent ways the Clan normally did things. Though hard to fully grasp, it was obvious to him that this was indeed a better, more efficient way of doing things. These concepts ran directly against his way of thinking, the Clan ways and traditions were so extremely different than what they were all exposed to now. Mog-ur had changed the way he felt about a lot of things since coming to know these people of the Others, and it never really seemed to stop.

He looked over at the faces of his fellow Clan members. Of them all, Etra and Rug seemed to be the most accepting of these new strange ways. Etra was considered to be a medicine woman of equal abilities and knowledge by her peers, and though a bit quiet and demure by their standards, was consulted in all major medical decisions. Rug, without giving up his mantle of leadership, participated actively in all the discussions of importance. Though less interested in the general planning talks, he added frequently to most of the hunting strategies as Crag often did.

Mog-ur knew that the rest of his Clan was still less comfortable with actively participating in these types of open talks. More and more though, the men were joining in on planning the hunts and the women added to the discussions of meal preparations and other camp activities and chores. It was a slow transition, but it was happening.

Crag and Rymar, at least until he was injured, were continuing to train and oversee Brug and Mortan. Mog-ur saw the incredible ease in how the two older men worked together explaining and teaching the young hunters, and though he did it on the sly, Mog-ur was learning from them too. The constant contributions the boys made to the food supplies spoke for themselves. Never had the Mog-ur seen such dedication as these boys showed on a daily basis. If it was light outside, they would rather be hunting than doing anything else.

Mog-ur felt Ooga's body slump against his chest gently, and he knew she had fallen asleep. Her hand fell away from the bottom of his beard slowly, he took hold of it and placed it gently between their bodies. Mog-ur enjoyed the closeness and warmth this delightful child showered him with, somehow, it helped the old holy man to keep things in perspective.

The firelight flickered, casting bright streaks through her deep brown, wavy hair. He ran his fingers through her hair, gently pulling it away from her face, admiring the innocent child's beauty in the serenity of the evening.

**********

Talut led the band of seventeen hunters, made up mostly of men, through the darkness. Tulie, Regan, Stolie, and Silvie were the only women who came along, the rest being busy with other things.

It was still dark, and the sun wasn't due to rise for quite a while yet. They walked down the length of the rocky mound all the way to where they had been surprised by the tiger the day before. Talut and Ludeg explored the rocky rise, and decided it was easy enough to get over it here. They led the others over the craggy mound that was only half again as high as Talut was tall here, establishing a path and helping the others over a couple of the harder spots to get over.

Ludeg peered through the trees with Talut and Branag beside him. It was still too dark to see much, but the unmistakable, soft sounds of animals out in front of them were easy enough to distinguish. He led the rest of them down the edge of the tree line back to the south.

**********

The first light of dawn began gradually, and the hunters grouped together to figure out a plan. They stayed back in the cover of the shade of a pair of short oak trees, and surveyed the situation.

A pair of bison were closest to them on down to the south grazing on the tall grass at the base of a few scrub trees. Across the body of shallow water to the east was a single moose knee deep in the water. Past the moose, the small band of male horses grazed peacefully at the waters edge. To the far north, a band of some twenty or so hyenas clustered around the carcass of something big, probably an aurochs or bison by the size of it. Though a long way off, the occasional cackling of the hyenas as they fought and scrambled over the kill could be heard.

There was no sign of the other three moose they had seen yesterday, but it wasn't likely that the others were too far away. With the light slowly increasing, it was time to get started. They all started cutting tall grass and small branches off nearby bushes and trees to stick into their clothing, and before long all of them had their profiles considerably softened by the camouflage of natural materials.

Six of them headed to the north, staying just within the trees and bushes as they made their way, going slowly and quietly. The rest of them went south, staying at the edge of the mound and in as much cover as they could. It would take a while to get into position unseen, if they were lucky.

**********

Crag followed the boys back out onto the breakwater, it was just barely light enough to see so they took their time. Footing here was treacherous at best, and they stayed well away from the waters edge so as to not spook any potential prey. The winds were gusty and cool, and the salty spray that sprinkled them from time to time off the rocks was cold but refreshing. It was a cool, brisk morning.

They passed the place where they had caught the fish the day before, working their way on down the ridge to where the water got deeper and the rocks bigger but farther apart. The waves got a little taller in the deeper water, and when they broke over the jagged rocks sent a lot of water up onto the rocks in cascading sprays that glimmered and formed soft translucent rainbows in the light sunlight.

Crag found a good spot to sit and watch out of the range of the spray of the breaking water and got comfortable on the flat top of a good size boulder that was mostly dry. The boys took off their foot covers and left them with him. He watched them walk on, the excitement they felt obvious in their body language.

Brug slowed as he peered over the edge of the wide rock he stood on, Mortan beside him. Both of them had their gaff tipped spears and cords ready. Seeing nothing that interested them, they moved on.

The boys hunted their way further down the ridge, slowly and carefully. The rocks were all wet and slick, so the going was slow and tedious. Crag was proud of the patience they were both showing, and he could see just how well they were working together. Staying side by side and communicating with simple gestures and very subtle signs, they were one deadly efficient pair of hunters.

Crag was distracted by a trio of sea gulls who soared on the currents, shadowing the boys as they worked their way on down the breakwater. The effortless way they hung in the sky amazed him, oh to be able to fly like that, he thought to himself as he watched.

A slow movement caught Crag's eye, and he shifted his vision back to the boys just as they were raising their spears. Something was different, he thought. The way they moved, the stony looks on their faces, what he could see anyway. Crag stood up, trying to get a better view, an uneasy feeling hit his stomach.

Mortan was almost afraid to throw his spear, that had to be the biggest fish he had ever seen. His heart was pounding so hard it almost hurt, he glanced at Brug and could see that his younger friend was just as anxious and uneasy as he was.

Brug looked into the water, almost up against the wide rock they stood on just a few feet down under the surface of the water was the biggest, fattest fish in the world—it had to be. His strong arms trembled slightly with anticipation and fear as he tried to concentrate enough to throw the spear. He caught Mortan's look out of the corner of his eye, Mortan was ready, and Brug nodded his head subtly.

With a deep breath, Brug flung his spear. Mortan saw the beginning of the motion and threw his almost at almost the same exact instant. Both spears were spot on accurate, and the huge grouper flinched and with a single swing of his tail moved away from the rock in a powerful surge of speed. The cords unwound quickly from the boys hands, but when they reached the ends and the boys got a grip where they were tied to their wrists and they pulled back against the fish—it happened.

Crag screamed out as both boys were pulled off the rock and into the water. He was signing frantically as he hurried toward where they had been. 'Cut the cord! Cut the cords!'

A distinct disadvantage of the silent language of the Clan was instantly apparent. You couldn't speak to someone that couldn't see you. Crag moved as fast as he could over the rocks.

Brug got a mouthful of water and choked as he struggled to pull the knife from his belt. Mortan crashed into him from the side, his elbow hitting Brug in the cheek. Brug pulled his knife free of the scabbard and let go of the cord tied to his left wrist and caught Mortan's arm. Brug felt his way up the arm and when he felt the cord he slashed at it with his knife. Mortan's hand hit him in the mouth as he suddenly went past him, and Brug felt the cord on his wrist pulling him deeper down into the cold, dark water.

With his chest constricting, screaming for breath, Brug tried to pull himself forward to reach the cord with his right hand. He was quickly getting weaker and weaker and needing to breath badly.

Crag jumped into the water just as Mortan's head broke the surface. He was not a strong swimmer at all, but he slapped his arms violently against the water trying to close the gap to Mortan. Mortan coughed and sputtered and his head went under again as a wave washed over him. Crag kicked furiously toward him.

Brug felt a stab of pain as he slashed at the cord, he could barely reach it. He started to lose his vision in the stinging darkness of the water. Cold enveloped him. He slashed again, and the constant pulling stopped abruptly. Brug's chest hurt more than he could have ever thought possible, but his fear lent him a surge of strength and he kicked and pulled upward with his hands. He could see the dim light above and kicked harder, and harder, his chest constricting tighter and tighter.

Mortan broke the water again, close enough for Crag to grab his arm. Mortan screamed out at the vise like grip squeezed his upper arm and got another mouth full of water in the process. Crag held Mortan's upper body up out of the water as his own head went under from the strain.

Brug was losing his strength, he kicked again, harder and harder. His chest felt like it was about to explode. The coldness crept into his bones.

Mortan took a deep, rasping breath and spit out a blob of water. He coughed hard as Crag's head surfaced beside him. Crag took a deep breath and shoved Mortan toward the rocks, then spun around in time to see Brug's head pop up to his right. Crag kicked toward the boy who was obviously in trouble. Bad trouble.

Brug gasped for air just before he cleared the surface, and got half a mouthful of seawater. He coughed and retched, and got a partial breath before slipping back under. His eyes burned so badly from the salty sea that he could no longer see and he threw up under water from his mouth and nose as he slowly began to sink back into the cold depths. The last conscious thought he had was of how much his wrist suddenly hurt.

Crag pulled as hard as he could toward the surface, his arms and legs were so fatigued that he could hardly force them to move, but force them he did. He needed fresh air so bad, but he pushed all the harder, on and on. Higher and higher, farther and farther.

When he finally found air, Crag jerked Brug's limp body up. He took a deep breath and kicked toward the rocks, a weariness such as he had never known enveloping his tired, shivering body. Crag saw that Brug's head kept going underwater, and he slowed and got a grip on the boys hair, pulling his face out of the surf and keeping it out. Crag was tiring badly, just a little farther, he thought to himself, pushing his body all the harder.

Just when Crag thought he could go no father, he kicked something hard with his foot. The sharp, stabbing pain gave him one last bit of energy and he scrambled up onto the rock well below the surface of the waves. He pulled Brug up to his chest by the armpits roughly, the water was waist deep, and he squeezed the boy's chest against his own. Nothing. Crag repositioned Brug's limp body, and squeezed the stocky boy again, harder this time. Nothing. On the third try, water gushed out of Brug's mouth and he coughed loudly and retched violently all over Crag's face and chest.

When Crag's eyes cleared a little from the stinging salt water and he could see a little again, he saw Mortan sitting on a rock with just his head and shoulders out of the water, his eyes wide with fear, his face deathly white.

Brug gasped and took a deep, ragged breath, and clung to Crag tightly. Crag exhaled loudly, and relaxed his grip on Brug just a little. He was so tired, so very, very tired.

**********

Branag led the other four men and Tulie around the perimeter of the shallow water just inside the edge of the cover of the brush and scattered trees. They moved as quietly as they could, while trying to stay out of sight of the moose still wading in the shallow water. Timing their brief surges forward with the movements of the moose, they moved on cautiously.

Across the pond, the other hunters were all in ambush position. Well hidden, Branag caught glimpses of them on occasion as they hunched down in the stands of tall grass and behind bushes. The camouflaged hunters formed a wide semicircle on the south side of the pond.

Two thirds of the way around the pond, they came across the other two moose that they had seen the day before. They were eating willow leaves from the back side of a wide tree up from the water a dozen steps or so.

"We might have a decent shot at them." Branag whispered to Tulie, both of them crouched down in the shade behind a short oak.

"Yes, but if we miss are you going to be the one to tell Talut why he didn't get a shot at the other moose?" Tulie grinned as she finished.

"Come on." Branag whispered, scowling as they moved on to the east.

**********

Crag carried Brug back onto the breakwater, setting him down on a wide, mostly dry rock that slanted away from the water. He turned to help Mortan who seemed to be incapable of moving. Mortan had a blank, far away look in his eyes and his face was still ghostly white.

Brug sat with his head between his knees, breathing deeply in a ragged sort of way and his whole body shivered in rippling, uncontrollable waves. He didn't notice the bright streak of blood that ran down his left leg from the gash in his wrist.

Crag ended up picking up Mortan by the armpits and setting him down beside Brug, then climbed up the slick face of the rock to join them.

"Brug", give me your hand.' Crag signed, and Brug weakly complied. Crag squeezed the wrist, and reached for the flap of a pouch on his belt and fumbled to untie the thin, wet leather that held it closed. He was having a hard time, his fingers were cold and fat feeling and the leather strip was tied tightly.

"Mor-tuh!" Crag's voice startled the boy, and he looked up at Crag, his eyes still wide with shock and fear. His face was so very pale.

When Crag made a motion with his head, then held Brug's bleeding wrist a little bit towards him, Mortan came out of his lethargic stupor and reached up to help. He took Brug's wrist in both hands, squeezing down to slow the blood flow and Crag gave all his attention to getting the knot undone.

Brug coughed again, and spat out a bit more seawater, the remnants dripping down the sides of his mouth. Mortan started talking to Brug, soft whispers that were meant to calm and assure his friend that everything would be all right. The hard, cold look in Brug's eyes softened a bit at the calming sounds of his hunting partner's familiar, soothing voice.

Crag got frustrated and quickly gave up on the tight, wet knot, and pulled his knife and cut the cord with a strong flick. He reached into the pouch and pulled out a few strips of soft leather, picking one that was almost as wide as the palm of his hand. Crag squared himself in front of Brug and Mortan, and nodded at Mortan who held Brug's wrist up a little higher up on Brug's forearm so Crag could get to the cut easier. Mortan slid his other hand down a little to give Crag more room to start the wrap.

Brug grunted when Crag finished and pulled the wrap tight, and Mortan looked over into his deep brown eyes and grinned at the slightly pained expression on Brug's face. It was a look, a familiar look he had seen before. Brug would be all right, he thought, and a tremendous weight seemed to fall off his shoulders.

Crag tied two additional thin strips around the wide wrap, securing it tightly. He sat back and took a deep breath, watching a small dark spot begin to seep through the light colored leather strip.

**********

The moose had her head down, pulling a wide clump of weeds from the bottom when the chasers made their move. They had watched and waited, and as soon a she ducked her head down the six of them took off running at her from the north, breaking out of the cover of a thick stand of brush. They ran as fast and as quietly as they could, trying to get as close as possible before she spotted them.

When the moose lifted her head out of the shallow water with a mouth full of dripping weeds, she saw them and started back pedaling toward shore. She flung her head sideways, sending the bright green weeds flying and bellowed as her feet were slowed by the thick, dark mud. She scrambled up out of the water, falling to her knees once in the mud at the edge of the marshy pond.

Branag and Tulie led the charge, screaming now as the six of them got closer, and closer. They all waved their spears as they ran at her, spreading out wider from each other as they came.

The moose hit solid ground and strained to get going, loping away from the screaming encroachers and working herself up into a full gallop. She turned her head for one last look back at the noisy humans when the first spear hit her full in the chest.

**********

Brug was still pale and a little slow, but walking pretty much on his own by the time the three of them finally reached the rocks at the shore. Crag assisted both boys as they traversed the often jagged rocks, going first, then helping them along.

Crag hopped down off the last short rock and onto the hard packed, wet sand. He turned and helped Brug off the rock, while Mortan hopped off on his own. They trudged up the sand toward camp, shivering still in their soaking wet, heavy clothes.

Vincavec spotted them first from the southern edge of the camp, he had been chopping dead fall and driftwood for the fire. Wymez was with him, stacking the firewood, and they both rushed out to meet them. It was obvious that something was amiss by the way they were walking.

Matera was the only healer still at the camp, she had stayed while the others had gone out scouting for plants because of a slight bout of nausea in her swelling belly. She had put together a drying rack behind the main tent.

A large crowd had gathered as Matera cleaned the knife wound. She began with a stinging antiseptic solution that Vincavec helped her to mix and got it all wrapped up with fresh, clean bandages.

Mortan told the story to an enthralled audience while Matera and Vincavec worked on Brug. Crag sat off to the side, watching and sipping tea. He had not even put on dry clothes yet, Crag would change when the boys did, there was a lot for them to talk about.

"...the biggest fish ever, it was so long and fat that we didn't even think about how strong it would be." Mortan said, Brug looking and nodding on as he spoke while signing at the same time. "When the cord ran out, we pulled back against the fish and wham—we were both in the water. It all happened so fast!"

A murmur went through their audience, and when it waned, he went on.

"Brug saved me, he cut the cord and I swam up to the surface as fast as I could. The water was so cold and the fish had pulled us down so deep and so fast that I didn't think I would ever get there." Mortan's voice softened slightly at the harrowing memory.

"When I got to the surface, I couldn't stay there. I was so tired and out of breath that I started going back under but Crag grabbed me and held me up high enough out of the water for me to catch my breath. Then he went after Brug."

Crag blanched as he watched Mortan sign as he spoke, he could almost feel his chest constricting at the memory of the ordeal. A shiver ran through him, he was still cold.

"He was still underwater when I got to the rock and pulled myself up, I watched and watched but I couldn't see either one of them..."

**********

Talut grunted as he and Branag rolled the heavy body of the moose over. It had taken seven spears to bring her down, and when she did finally hit the ground four of them had been broken off cleanly. Ludeg and Tulie reached down to continue slicing the heavy hide free as soon as the two men stepped back out of their way. Rug stood off to the side, holding the broken haft of his favorite spear, staring at it with a sad look on his face.

"I sure wanted to try for the other two moose, but I knew if we did you all would have been disappointed at not getting your own chance at this one." Tulie said, grinning up at Talut while she worked.

"I wonder if they're still there," Talut said as he looked back to the northeast.

"Not a chance, " Branag said. "They took off as soon as we came out of the brush. I'm still surprised we got past them at all without spooking them."

"Talut, are you worried that you won't get enough to eat?" Ludeg quipped, smiling broadly at him.

Laughter erupted all around them. Talut got a little red in the face, then laughed along with them.

**********

Latie pulled up on the prickly stem of the nettle, she had a soft piece of leather in her hand to protect her from the stinging sharp points and her knife in the other. She snipped the stem at the base of the well past its prime flower and watched as droplets of white liquid oozed up from outer portions of the hollow stem. Letting it go, she picked up the flower pod by a twisted dull green leaf and dropped it onto the small skin flat on the ground beside her. There were four more just like it already there.

Etra walked over to Latie as she stood up, holding the skin with the flower buds in it by the four corners. She held out a root system with three fat bulbous root pods connected by thin root strands. Latie looked at it and nodded, Etra dropped them into her own gathering basket and the two of them walked on through the brush and tall weeds to the northwest.

Brenan and Tressie knelt side by side at the base of a young willow sapling, slicing off thin strips of the inner layer of stringy bark from the bare spots where the dark outer bark had already been removed. They had quite a pile of the strips harvested, and they covered the entire bottom of Tressie's basket a couple of layers deep. Brenan looked up when he heard his mate and Etra approaching.

"Any luck finding any marigolds?" Latie asked as they walked up.

"Not yet, it may be too late in the season." Tressie answered.

"We can use the roots, the flowers aren't the only usable parts of the plant." Latie said, scanning the ground around them.

"I know, we could also use some datura..." The discussion continued as the healers worked to replenish their supplies.

**********

Crag and Vincavec walked the shoreline with Wymez and Rymar, they started out close to the breakwater. They hadn't gone too far when Vincavec spotted a large, dark shape lolling in the shallows with the rhythmic waves in the surf.

It was the grouper, all right, and it was indeed a monster. It took three of them to drag it ashore, Rymar was in no condition to help and stayed up on the sandy beach. The fish was as long as Talut was tall, and even wider. A large bite had been taken out of the lower neck of the fish on one side, probably by a shark, but the rest of him was in great shape. The two spears were still intact, just a few inches apart from each other stuck deeply into the body of the fish a little behind his fat head with his oddly fat lips.

Crag could see now how the boys had been pulled under so easily and quickly. This was one huge, powerful fish. He knew that he would have to spend some time with his young hunters, they needed to learn their limits. Their experience would surely help this lesson go easier, he thought as he admired the huge grouper.

Once they got the fish up past the breaking water, they started cutting her up.

**********

Nezzie sat at the fire with Bralut in her lap. Ooga sat on one side of her and Deegie on the other with Brydag suckling noisily on her breast. Ooga tickled Bralut's fat belly, watching the boy coo and giggle and trying erratically to catch Ooga's finger with his hands.

"Happy babies, fat babies." Nezzie said softly, smiling at Bralut's cute antics when Ooga allowed him to catch her finger. He pulled her finger from side to side, grinning as Ooga kept pulling lightly against him. Nezzie felt a movement in her lower belly and put her hand on it, feeling a flush of warmth and happiness like she hadn't felt in a long, long time.

Deegie smiled, she couldn't have said it better herself. She had pretty much decided that she was indeed blessed again, and wondered when she should tell Branag. Deegie was sure he would be thrilled, but dreaded the extra attention he had given her when she was pregnant with Brydag. Her strapping mate had treated her like she was fragile, over protective to a point that he smothered her with his constant demands that she rest and take it easy. It all stemmed from love, she knew, but it was tiresome to be treated like a helpless child. Maybe this time it would be different.

**********

With their baskets full to overflowing and three additional tied skins of plants, roots, and crab apples, the healers started back to camp. Happy of what all they had found, they had a spring in their step as they wandered through the trees.

Brenan led them back and carried the bulk of the load, he had tied the three loose skins together and had them slung over his shoulders with a single throwing spear in his right hand. Latie carried a spear as well, and had her heavy basket at her left side bouncing off her hip as she walked.

A pair of squirrels chattered at them from the safety of the tree above them. Brenan grinned at the way the loudest of the two lay stretched out facing them hanging onto the bark of the tree with just his back feet. The squirrel continued to chastise them as they passed by.

Coming around a short stand of briars, a pair of motley colored ptarmigan broke from the grass and flew away from them with a drumming of beating wings. Both birds had already started putting on their white winter feathers and looked a little strange during the transition. It took them no time at all to get out of sight and away.

"Look at that! Mushrooms!" Tressie said excitedly, pointing to a scattered growth of fresh mushrooms surrounding a fallen log that was over half decayed and rotting.

"Onions too!" Latie echoed as she reached the shaded spot.

Brenan smiled as the three women headed straight for it to gather the tasty vegetables. He stopped and waited patiently, gazing up at the treetops. A single hawk sat on a flimsy branch silhouetted beautifully in the blue sky beyond, watching them closely. He swayed as the soft breeze moved the thin leaf covered branch. Multi colored with brown, tan, and black feathers covered the hawk's wings and back, and his chest was a bright stark white with thin strips of tan. What a magnificent creature, Brenan thought as he admired the large predator.

The hawk looked down at him with his black, fearless eyes and his dull orange curved beak with the black tip opened and closed slowly as if he were talking to Brenan. He spread his wide wings and dropped off the branch, dipping into the slight breeze and soared up and away out of sight.

**********

With as many hunters as had gone on the trip, it was easy going on the return trek back to camp. No one had too much to carry as they had completely butchered the moose and distributed the load amongst the men.

The late afternoon sun beat down warmly on them, but the mediocre heat of the day was waning fast. The puffy clouds had pretty much all blown on throughout the day, and the sky was clear and a beautiful shade of light blue. The salty smell of the soft breeze that blew in off the sea was a constant, pleasant companion.

When they reached the crossing place over the rock ridge, they were surprised at the smell of cooking fish on the breeze. It had been a long day, and the succulent smells encouraged them, with Talut leading the way at a quick pace with Danug right behind him.

It wasn't long before he and Danug were out of sight of the rest of them, following their noses back to camp.

**********

Tressie and Etra treated Brug's cut wrist. The slash was a pretty long one but not very deep, he had cut himself while trying to cut the cord while struggling with the grouper. Tressie tied four thin strips of leather soaked in marigold flower extract in a crisscross pattern around his wrist and forearm. This held the skin in place and Etra wrapped a wider strap around it all to protect and keep it clean.

Brug sat and watched it all impassively, masking the pain like any good man of the Clan would. Having seen what Tressie had done to help the Mog-ur when he had been on the very verge of death, Brug just knew she could heal anything. He still felt a little queasy, and this was harder for him to hide from the experienced medicine women. Brug had gotten more than one hefty swallow of seawater and he kept feeling like he needed to puke, shat, or eat something. He couldn't decide which his churning stomach needed, so when Etra handed him a cup of sour smelling tea he wrinkled his nose at first.

'Will help stomach, and pain in arm. Drink.' Etra signed with a commanding forcefulness that Brug didn't even consider questioning. Only when it concerned anything medicinal did Etra show such a strong, commanding presence, otherwise she was as demure as any other Clan woman.

Crag and Mortan walked over following the Mog-ur. They all sat down around Brug, Mortan patting his shoulder as he settled in beside him. Mortan held out a small platter with a piece of freshly browned, heavily seasoned fish on a soft, steamed bed of seaweed. It smelled great and Brug quickly decided that this was just what his odd feeling belly needed, at least he hoped it was.

Brug drained the last of the sour, slightly bitter brew and handed the cup back to Etra with a slightly sour look on his face. She exchanged it for another steaming cup that smelled a whole lot better, and Tressie looked over at him and smiled. Brug sipped the hot brew and was grateful when the pleasant tasting tea began to dissipate the bitter aftertaste that lingered on the back of his tongue.

'Arm will be fine, no hunt three day—let heal.' Tressie signed, with a smile on her face.

Brug nodded his head solemnly, accepting her instructions without question. She was a medicine woman after all. The smell of the fish in his lap wafted up to him and he reached down and pinched off a small piece. Steam rose from the break in the filet, and when he put the morsel in his mouth it was so tender it almost melted without him even chewing it. It was very tasty, but hot. Brug's eyes shone with appreciation as he swallowed it and reached for another.

Crag sipped his tea while Brug ate, watching him for any lingering signs of their ordeal. Mog-ur observed both boys as well, he was impressed by the way they were dealing with the close call they had just endured. They acted more and more like men, like true hunters, all the time. Crag still felt a bit nauseous himself, but the herbal tea Etra had given him and the slice of hot fish was settling his stomach a little at a time.

Though not much of a swimmer, Crag had saved the boys and managed to pull them both back onto the safety of the rocks. He had managed by the sheer force of his will, the power of his incredibly strong body, and the sudden and intense fear of losing either of these boys he had grown so close to. Only after they were both safely back on the rocks did he feel any fear of what he had just done. The adrenalin rush from his efforts and the fact he had also swallowed a fair amount of seawater had hit him all at once, and he had retched his guts out in the salty water. Crag's inner tranquility was fully restored now, and with the sick feelings slowly leaving him, his body was following suit gradually, feeling stronger and more normal.

Mog-ur had given a lot of thought to the fact that they had almost lost these two young hunters, he was still extremely distressed about losing Aba and the child she carried. The people of the Clan that were left was so small in number that he feared for their very survival. The next generation that the Clan women all carried in their swelling bellies right now was the best hope they had for their future. Having been joined by these Others increased their chances of proliferation, and Mog-ur knew that it was the best chance they had to endure as a Clan. Indeed, he thought, Ursus is still watching over us, and pleased with the course we've taken.

**********

The hunters returned to a feast of fresh fish, and Nezzie and Marsie set up a second spit to start cooking the moose. Inca and Ova set out slicing the meat while Tricie and Silvie seasoned it with little Ooga helping every step of the way.

Talut and Danug were the first to fill platters with fish filets and steamed seaweed, and were amongst the last still going back for more. Both of them managed to get the first taste of moose as well, though still a little raw when they snuck a slice when no one was looking.

Branag stayed glued to Brug, after hearing their harrowing tale he felt like he had somehow lost him and got him back all at the same time. Brug was secure with the extra attention, and it helped to make up for Aba not being there for him. Though upset at their ordeal, Branag kept the conversation light and upbeat. The last thing he wanted was for Brug or Mortan either one to lose their zest for hunting.

Deegie brought Brydag over for Branag to watch when he finished eating, and took his nearly spotless platter away with her. Brug's eyes lit up when Branag lay Brydag on his knees and the boy reached out for Brug with both hands. Brug let Brydag grab his fingers and played tugging games with him, Branag watched contentedly, glad of the growing bond between them. He couldn't help but to be proud of the two sons of his hearth, and the incredible warm feelings they gave him.

Mortan sat with Rymar and Wymez, explaining their fateful fishing excursion in excruciating detail, and what all they had learned from the experience. Every hunter of the Clan sat in, they were all used to Mortan's signing as he spoke by now and had no trouble contributing to the conversation. The Clan hunters were in awe of Crag, most times when a member of the Clan got in trouble in the water it was fatal. The fact he had rescued both boys increased his standing all the more, no man of the Clan was much of a swimmer.

**********

Over the next eight days, they hunted the fertile valley twice more bagging two aurochs and another female moose. Brug was cleared to hunt again after three days of agonizing forced rest by Tressie, and he, Mortan, and Crag made up for lost time. They brought in a steady supply of fish, crustaceans, and crabs. Wymez and Rymar often watched from the beach as they worked up and down the breakwater.

A good amount of greens and other vegetables were found and gathered from the woods west of the rock mound. Carrots, fat roots, mushrooms, cabbage, and onions were all harvested and packed away. Tricie and Ralev even came across a small apple tree with a few slightly overripe green apples still clinging to some of the upper branches. Druwez and Crisavec made quick work climbing the wide spindly branches to gather what they could. They pulled up enough seaweed to enhance meals for some time to come, keeping only the tender, newest growth from the outer reaches of the tough stems.

The healers dried and processed herbs, leaves, roots, flower buds, and other useful plant parts. Grinding, shredding, and scraping, they were all able to replenish most of the medicines they were short on. Medicine bags bulged heavily with full pouches.

The cooking fires were in constant use as they cooked up most of the fresh meat, and a drying rack stayed full of meat and fish alike. With the onset of cooler weather and the constant need to keep moving, they wanted to be well supplied for the next leg of their journey. Nezzie and Inca boiled down three full stew skins of salt water and had a nice supply of sea salt packed away for cooking and for use in preserving some of the cooked meats.

It was a relaxing, but busy time, and a lot was accomplished. The supplies bulged and overflowed all their containers, and every meal was a feast. New baskets were made and hides worked, smoked, and cured. Clothes were repaired and new footwear made for nearly all of them from the single heavy skin of the large aurochs bull that had been killed on the second hunting trip in the valley.

Draag was presented with a marvelous new tunic made from the hide of the saber toothed tiger. Several women had worked on it together in secret and made it in the modified style that the Clan now wore. It was as soft and pliable as it was beautiful and he was more than pleased with the surprise gift. He wore it with pride, even though it was still a little heavy for this time of year.

Everyone fleshed out a little from the extended stay and the abundance of rich, healthy foods. They all felt strong and refreshed, and ready for whatever waited around the next bend. Even Rymar was feeling stronger and walking better, he worked on his stamina daily taking long walks with Wymez. He only used the cane that Druwez carved for him late in the afternoons when his leg tired.

On the ninth day, they moved on.


	22. Chapter 18 Part 1

**Chapter Eighteen**

_**Falling Leaves**_

**Part One**

Mog-ur sat on a wide, comfortable log just within the reaches of the warmth of the central camp fire enjoying the relaxed peacefulness of the morning. A wide hanging skin of simmering stew was set up on the other side of the fire with Marsie and Silvie stirring in a few fresh sliced mushrooms. Wymez and Rymar sat on one side of Mog-ur, and Crag on the other. They all sipped a chamomile and mint flavored tea from a tightly woven, well used basket at Wymez' feet.

The four older men sat quietly, enjoying the gentle warmth of the fire and the late morning sun that shone down on them through the limbs of the trees to the southeastern side of the camp. Multi-colored leaves fell like slow, gentle rain with each slight gust of the cool breeze, weaving a colorful carpet on the ground all around them.

The entire camp was a slow motion vision of relaxed activity. Chores attended to with no rush or sense of urgency, projects strewn all around attended by clumps of relaxed people. Conversation was light and cheerful, and the delectable scents of stew constantly permeated the entire area.

This was the third day they had been at this wonderful place, and it looked like they would be here for a little while longer. Half a moon back, they had left the breakwater and the lush valley beyond it and had moved on slightly inland to the southeast. Always further southeast, on and on, continuing this seemingly endless journey. They had traveled along the edges of the lightly wooded base of a low range of hills and valleys that was a little less than a quarter day's walk up from the sea. The hunting and gathering was good and firewood was plentiful and easy to acquire.

Four days back they had reached the wide, slow moving river below that eventually emptied on down into the sea, and Inca had her first bout of birthing pains. With the advancing condition of so many of the women, a river crossing now was thought to be an undue burden. Talut spent most of his time with several of the other men building a raft on the river banks, for once it was not a rushed effort.

Being such a beautiful and bounty filled place as this was, it was an easy decision to set up camp here for the duration of all the births that were now imminent. Inca's birthing pains were judged to be a little premature, a false labor, or so said the healers, but her time and the time of the other Clan women was obviously very, very near.

Hunting and fishing in the river below was easy and fruitful and it also gave them an endless supply of fresh clean water. The low hilltop that they camped on was at the edge of the thin woods stretched out to the north and east. Pines, maple, birch and beech trees were all scattered along the wide, gentle hills and willows and scrubs dotted the banks of the river. It provided for the easy gathering of nuts and little bits of late season greens and a few other decent edible plants, along with an abundance of dead fall for the fires. Onions and carrots grew near the river in a wide mud flat to the north, and mushrooms popped up from time to time as well.

**********

"I think you have about two full moons left, how do you feel?" Latie asked with a smile.

Nezzie smiled back, patting her bulging belly as she sat up with a grunt of effort and pulled her tunic back down over her stomach. Latie handed her the leggings that lay on the furs beside her.

"Pretty good for an old fat lady that has a little Talut kicking at me from all directions on my tender insides."

Matera tied her leggings back together at the waist, unable to see past her own belly bulge and had to do it by feel. She sat next to Nezzie, and had just been examined by Latie as well. "I think my own little Vincavec has decided that he wants to see how often he can make me pee!"

They all laughed, and when it began to subside, Nezzie brought up another observation.

"And I want to know what it is about a woman with a fat belly and a wiggling baby inside her that makes men so frisky and wanton. This poor child will be born with dents in his head from as many times as Talut honored the Mother with me!" Nezzie's voice cracked and she giggled through the last few words.

"I know just what you mean!" Matera added through her own laughter, Latie grinning at the both of them. "It appears that Vincavec thinks he can get me with child again before this one is even born!"

Etra looked up at the second sudden spate of laughter of the three women of the Others. It was cool in the tent, and with the flaps tied open at each end an even cooler breeze blew through. The healers had set up in the smallest of the two traveling tents, and had covered the ground with soft sleeping furs.

Inca lay before her with her naked legs spread wide and her upper body comfortably propped up on a mound of fur, she was having pains again. Etra went back to what she was doing, probing inside Inca with her fingers with one hand while feeling the tightness of her belly with the other. It isn't any kind of false labor this time, she thought to herself, this baby wants out.

Ova walked into the tent, she passed by the women of the Others, making a polite sign of greeting as she walked by, and knelt down next to Etra and Inca when she got to them. The sign she made caused Etra to blink with uncharacteristic surprise.

'My birthing pains have begun.'

**********

"Just watch how well they move together, just like a pair of wolves." Branag whispered. "See how they keep the wind to their sides as they go?"

"Just like wolves all right, stealthy but quicker than they look." Danug said, watching Brug and Mortan down below them. The two men sat hunched down at the top of the gentle rise, hunched down between a pair of low bushes watching the hunters work.

The two young hunters moved from behind a bush to the base of a tree, back over to another bush as they moved closer and closer to the two spotted deer. The deer grazed peacefully in the midst of a small patch of green grass in a narrow sea of light brown, short dead grass in a long, but thin clearing. Both boys had camouflaged themselves with twigs and grass stuck into their clothes, and they stayed low to the ground as they approached their prey.

Brug peered through the brush, and froze in place as the nearest deer looked up with a mouthful of grass. Mortan stayed still beside him, waiting patiently while the deer chewed. When she lowered her head, the boys split up and moved quietly to each side of a patch of briars that were mostly devoid of leaves, closer to the deer.

"Now watch how they get into position." Branag whispered. "Let's see how close they get before they commit."

Danug smiled, these boys are good, he thought as he watched Mortan slide forward slowly on his hands and knees to the edge of the briar. Brug mirrored him at the far edge of the patch where a tall stand of brown grass stood waving in the breeze.

A huge hawk soared over right over Danug and Branag at the top of the hill, dipping down and gliding effortlessly over the scattered treetops and on to the north of the hunters. He flared his wide wings, and lit on a bare limb at the top of a tall birch that had lost the majority of its leaves just to the north of the boys. Danug watched the flight of the feathered predator, and when he settled on the branch turned his attention back to the hunters.

Brug crawled through the grass slowly, heading for a short willow close to the deer. Mortan stayed still, crouched at the edge of the briars with his spear in hand and another on the ground next to him. He watched as Brug worked his way closer.

"Who will get the first shot off?" Branag whispered.

"Probably Brug—unless he gets spotted." Danug answered.

Brug reached the willow, and crawled through the low branches of the tree. When he got to the outer, low slung limbs, he pulled his spear up and stopped to watch the deer. They were close now, and the smaller deer looked around with a mouthful of grass.

This will be difficult to time correctly, Brug thought, watching the larger deer lift her head. The deer were out of synch, they wouldn't lower their heads together, one deer always had her head up while the other dipped down to graze. He watched and waited, this was probably the only situation that Brug was ever in that he had no difficulty being patient.

Brug took a deep breath and stepped out of the cover of the willow, both deer had their heads down. He raised his spear and took a few quick steps forward to launch, the spear flew through the air cleanly. The larger deer started to raise her head, and spotted Brug. She snorted and dropped the grass just as the spear hit her companion full in the ribs. The deer that was hit grunted and staggered sideways a few steps before taking off to the west away from the stabbing pain in her side. Brug pulled his other spear into position and took off pounding the ground in chase. The deer ran heavily and awkwardly, hindered badly.

The larger deer took off in full gallop, heading just past where Mortan lay in wait.

Mortan got a fresh grip, he took a deep breath and jumped up and let the spear fly with a single, graceful motion. The deer saw him jump up and tried to veer away from him as the spear flew directly at her. The intruder was way too close for the move to make any difference, and the spear hit her full in the shoulder knocking her sideways as she ran. Mortan took off following her, shifting his extra spear to his throwing hand as he ran.

"You were right, Brug got the first shot." Branag said as both men stood up to watch the chase unfold down below. The pride he felt for these two boys couldn't have been greater if they had both been born to his own hearth.

Danug watched the smaller deer begin to falter and Brug started catching up to her as she slowed. What a deadly pair, he thought, admiring their efforts.

**********

Talut grimaced, too hard again, he thought with disgust as the axe head shattered against the hard wood at the base of the maple tree. He straightened his large body up and dropped the axe to the ground as Vincavec laughed at him from behind.

"Are you intent on breaking every axe we have?"

Talut glared at Vincavec for a moment before cracking a wide grin. He was right, this was the second axe he had broken today. Vincavec laughed aloud, and Salen joined him as well.

"He's just trying to keep Wymez busy." Salen quipped, chuckling as he picked up the axe at his side.

Talut gave up and laughed with them. Salen stepped forward his axe in hand and Talut moved aside to let him take his place. Vincavec reached up and patted Talut's shoulder as the younger man started chopping.

Two large maples and one birch had already been felled and were being stripped of their limbs by a group of men a little way further to the north of where Talut and Vincavec stood. It was pleasantly cool, but most of the men worked bare chested, sweating with the exertions of their unhurried efforts.

The river was wide and slow flowing. The water was well back away from what looked to be its normal banks, it had obviously not been a very wet fall season in the regions that drained into it from the northeast. The river didn't appear to be too deep, but that was hard to tell for sure and it was very wide even in its current lowered condition. The far shoreline was rockier than the wide streaks of dark mud here on the near side, but the land was slow in rising on both sides of the river bed. It looked to make for an easy crossing this time around, much easier than the last few.

**********

Branag patted Brug on the shoulder, the deer dead at their feet. By the time she fell, Brug had not had to spear her again, she had run a long way. Brug had put her out of her misery by simply cutting her throat with his knife.

'That was good hunt.' Branag signed. Brug beamed up at him, always pleased for any praise or attention from this man of his hearth and his heart. 'Good hit, strong throw. This good deer, young tender.'

Branag pulled his knife from the scabbard on his belt, Brug saw him and moved over to the opposite side of the animal. They went to work.

Both of them were pleasantly surprised to find a nice layer of fat beneath the skin of her belly when they cut her open to field dress the doe. Branag decided to save the small intestines along with the stomach, liver, and bladder. They packed the organs back into the chest cavity when they tied her feet together to string out between Branag's spear for the walk back to camp.

Danug had a lot less distance to walk, Mortan's deer had come right up the hillside at him after the deer had been mortally wounded by the spear. When Mortan had reached where she fell, she was breathing her last. Mortan's spear was broken by her fall, and he pulled the end of the spear out and examined the undamaged flint point. At least the tip was salvageable, he thought as he looked it over then stowed it away into the scabbard across his back.

This doe also had a thin layer of fat, and Danug and Mortan saved the intestines of their deer also. It didn't take long to get the deer ready, and when Branag and Brug arrived, they all headed back to camp together.

**********

The evening meal was served early, Talut and his hungry crew came up from their tasks at the river, and made it a necessity. Talut would have raided the cooking fires relentlessly if the meal was too far away from being ready.

The venison cooked slowly on the spit, and several diced strips of the back strap muscles and one of the livers were diced up and added to the stew along with a little fat. The other liver was cooked on a flat rock at the edge of the fire, seasoned heavily with spices.

As the first signs of the sunset set in, coloring the western horizon with bright orange hues, a baby's cry rang out from the smaller traveling tent. Most of the women who weren't already inside rushed in. Following a long moment of quiet anticipation, Etra emerged from the tent and sought out the Mog-ur and Rug both sitting on the log at the fire. Her hands were bloody below the rolled up sleeves of her tunic. She approached Rug and knelt down before him, lowering her head.

Rug took a deep breath, then reached out to tap her on the shoulder. Mog-ur sat motionless beside him, trying to pay the two of them no attention.

Etra looked up and held his expressionless gaze for a moment, then signed slowly. 'It is with great satisfaction that I inform the Clan leader that "Inca" has given birth to a new son of the Clan. The boy is well formed and appears healthy.'

Rug exhaled, he had been holding his breath without realizing it. 'Good, and how is "Inca"?

"Inca" is fine, she did well and appears strong.'

Rug nodded, and Etra stood gracefully and walked back into the tent. Mog-ur watched her walk away, then looked over to Rug whose face showed the immense pride and relief the leader felt.

'Is good to have another hunter, we also need girls to be born.' Mog-ur signed, and Rug nodded his agreement.

Rug knew that it would take many births to ensure the survival of his Clan. Though he was well aware of the importance of females and their role as the sole givers of life, he was glad that the first Clan baby to be born since the raid was a boy. It seemed both just and fitting.

Talut and Vincavec both wandered over to congratulate Rug and the Mog-ur, and a few at a time most of the males of the camp, Clan and Others, followed suit. It turned into a male bonding party when Vincavec broke out his last skin of blackberry wine. Soon, the soothing herbal after dinner tea was forgotten completely.

**********

The night air was cool, and the occasional breeze gusting through was even cooler, leaves fell like rain. The dark sky was streaked with thin, striated clouds that glowed with small light dots of bright stars shining through them from beyond. There was no visible moon, and in the extreme darkness of the night a single wolf song from somewhere far to the north seemed to cry out in anguish, perhaps for its missing partner.

Talut and Vincavec sat at the fire alone on the wide log, both were still just a little giddy from the wine. They sat silently for a long time, listening to the sounds of the night, especially to the lone wolf's songs.

The wolf started a series of high pitched, whining yips that evolved into a crying wail, so sad and morose. So very alone.

Talut looked into the darkness to the north, he heard the soft snapping of a twig. Rug and Salen were on the first watch of guard duty, though well out of sight, it was a comfort to know they were out there.

"I think I know how that wolf feels sometimes." Vincavec whispered. "I wish I could cry out to the Mother with all my anguish, I wonder if it makes him feel any better?"

Talut looked up, a little surprised at Vincavec's words. I know this feeling too, he thought to himself, remembering some of the tragic things he had seen and been involved in over the last few years. Talut's first thoughts were that Vincavec should be so happy now, he had finally found a mate that he was obviously crazy about and she was blessed with child. What more could he want, he wondered. Then Talut thought back to the wonderful lodge they had built, the Cave Bear Camp lodge that was probably gone now, and so was everyone that had lived there. So many deaths, Talut considered, so many tears.

Vincavec felt his eyes well up with tears, he wondered again about the fate of his sibling. Is she alive? He wondered about the rest of his camp, did any of them survive, were they caught unaware? Did the raiders from the north even find the new lodge, was someone able to stop their evil incursions? So many questions, so very few answers.

"Are we doing the right thing, Talut?" Vincavec asked softly. "Should we have stayed and fought them?"

Talut exhaled loudly, reaching up to pull the tip of his beard into a point beneath his chin as he considered the questions. When he spoke, his voice was soft and serious.

"The right thing? I don't know if we are doing the right thing, but I know that by the choices we made we now have the chance to live and prosper. If we had stayed to fight, I don't think we would have that chance at all." Talut paused for a moment before going on.

"Do you remember how you felt when you watched the Mammoth Camp being pillaged and destroyed?"

Vincavec nodded, lowering his head to look at the ground at his feet, flickering with firelight. A tear fell.

"How you felt after sending Chaleg and his kin on to face the Mother, do you remember?" Talut clenched his massive fist and it trembled slightly, he lowered it back to his lap.

"If we had stayed to fight, if we had somehow even managed to defeat the mass of northerners, what would be left of us? How many of us could have survived the battles? Would any of us have still retained any reasonable measure of our humanity?" Talut's voice hardened a little as he continued.

"I am still haunted by the nightmares of those terrible events. The battle, the piles of dead. I killed people I knew, people, Vincavec, people of the Mother. I took their lives away from them."

Vincavec looked up at Talut's pained words. "I fear I have a lot to answer for when I go to meet Mut, but I will say this, I would do it all again if given the same choices—every single bit of it. If it wasn't the right thing to do, I will gladly answer for my efforts to save and protect the innocent."

Talut thought about this, Vincavec had to be right. Didn't he?

The wolf built back up to a full voiced howl again. His song ringing through the night, high pitched and clear.

"My biggest regret is that I didn't even try to get back to warn my own camp." A huge tear rolled down his cheek, and dropped onto the back of his hand resting in his lap.

"Wasn't it too late by the time you found the signs of the raiders?" Talut asked. "Do you really think you could have beat them back to the Cave Bear Camp? Honestly?"

Vincavec considered this, then whispered his answer. "No, but I could have at least tried."

Talut put his left arm over Vincavec's shoulder and gave him a soft hug. "Then you would probably be dead."

A low pitched moan escaped the smaller tent, followed shortly thereafter by the high pitched cry of an infant. Both men looked over at the tent, wondering—hoping. A movement from the northern side of the camp got their attention, Rug and Salen walked back into the firelight with spears in their hands.

The infant cried out again, and Rug stopped for a moment, then walked slowly back over to the fire. Talut dipped two cups of tea, and offered it to the guards as they arrived and sat down with them.

The wolf wailed again, softer this time, but with even more feeling than before if that were possible.

Rug sipped the hot brew, relishing its full flavor. Alfalfa, his personal favorite. He laid his spear on the ground, point first, leaning the shaft on the log beside him.

Mog-ur and Crag emerged from the long tent, and after looking over to the smaller tent for a moment, joined the others at the fire. Rug had two cups of tea waiting for them by the time they sat down, the log was filling up.

**********

Etra walked out of the smaller tent, her swollen belly giving her steps a heavy plod as she walked toward the men. Mog-ur wondered how much longer it would be before her baby would want to see the light of day. Etra knelt heavily at Rug's feet and lowered her head.

Rug tapped her shoulder, and feared that something was wrong when he looked into her eyes.

'This woman is distressed to inform the Clan leader that the woman "Ova" has given birth to a girl child.' Etra signed, feigning sadness as best she could. Inside, she was more than pleased that Ova's baby was female, and it was hard to keep this happiness off her face.

'How is "Ova"? Rug asked, keeping his expressions subdued.

'Mother and baby are doing well, the girl is well formed and healthy.' Etra signed, and looked back to the ground to get a fresh grip on her happiness, it really wouldn't be prudent if any of it showed.

The baby screamed out again from the tent. Every man on the log looked to the tent flap, Talut grinned wide, his white teeth standing out in the firelight.

Rug looked at the tent, then back to Etra. ' This girl has powerful voice, she must have something important to say.'

Etra's eyes flashed with deep sparkles, the leader is not angry, she knew at once.

'The girl child is strong and already wants to be a good Clan woman.'

Mog-ur smiled inside, the byplay between the medicine woman and the leader was enjoyable to watch. This is not typical Clan behavior, he thought, but it is good. Very good.

**********

The early morning sun was bright, and it looked to be another beautiful day. The babies were shown off, as much as Clan traditions allowed and could be reasonably stretched, and the mothers complimented with measured accolades. Except for Nezzie, who fawned over both babies and praised the mothers shamelessly. She walked all over camp with a baby under each arm until both infants cried out for milk.

Even the men of the Clan let down their guard a little. Rug doted on the newest members of his Clan, and Mog-ur held the little girl for an extended period of time, when Nezzie allowed it.

Little Ooga stuck to Nezzie's side throughout the morning, often holding one of the infants to her little chest with the tenderness of a mother herself.

**********

Latie had seen this happen before, at a summer meeting a few years back four women all had their babies within a few days of each other. Something about a heavily pregnant woman seeing another woman in labor seemed to be contagious. Etra's birthing pains started while the two of them were out in the woods burying the afterbirth of the two women of the Clan.

Clan traditions were being modified left and right, but Mog-ur seemed to be adequately tolerant of it all. Ova and Inca were both very weak, and for them to go out and do their duty of burying the afterbirth themselves—alone, seemed somehow the wrong thing for them to do. Mog-ur was grateful when Rug had no real objections to his suggestion that if the medicine woman carried out the task that it would be sufficient.

Mog-ur wondered if this was the distinctly female influence that still existed inside him. Ever since he had gone into Etra's memories with her, he had been forced to endure these odd female thoughts that occasionally invaded his mind. It was something he couldn't speak of to anyone, ever.

Etra sat down during the painful contractions, and Latie sped up her efforts digging deeper into the cold, hard dirt. By the time Latie finished, Etra's pains were getting closer and closer together. Latie felt the urgency of the situation. They took off for camp as quickly as they could, forced to stop and rest at every birthing pain.

It took a long time to get back, Latie didn't realize quite how far they had gone. Etra's water broke while they were walking, just as the camp came into view. This worried Latie, and she called out as loud as she could.

Vincavec and Ludeg were out on the northern side of the camp gathering dead fall when they heard Latie's cry. They both rushed to meet them, and helped to carry Etra back between them. Latie rushed ahead to get a birthing area set up in the small tent, calling for Tressie and Matera to help.

They got Etra settled in, and Matera had a potion almost ready to hasten the delivery. Dry births were exceptionally hard on both the baby and the mother, she knew the situation could get critical quickly. Brenan came in asking if they needed any help, and Matera asked him to prepare a special salve and how she wanted it made. Brenan listened intently, then hurried away to get it started.

Etra lay still as the next pain enveloped her. Her body trembled and she clenched the edges of the furs she lay on with both hands, the veins standing out from her arms. The muscles in her stomach striated in hard, distinct ripples as the contraction kicked in full strength.

As soon as the contraction subsided, Matera held out the cup of medicinal tea for Etra. Matera helped her to drink, and Etra got most of the musky tasting brew down and made a sign of thanks.

Tulie rushed into the tent, and dropped down beside Etra. She studied the situation and listened as Tressie and Matera talked about possible treatments to aid in the birth. By the tone in their voices and the options they discussed, Tulie knew something was wrong. Tulie had assisted in many births, though not a healer herself, she had seen and participated in many easy and more than a few very difficult deliveries.

Another birthing pain began. Tressie knelt down in front of Etra, watching the muscles of her lower abdomen work. It wasn't her muscles that were the problem, she decided and reached down and felt between Etra's legs, probing deeply with her fingers.

"The birth canal is too narrow, it hasn't opened up yet." She said simply, dropping her head with sadness.

Matera knelt down beside them, and examined deeply into the folds of Etra's womanhood herself. It was hard to not reach the same conclusion, as terrible a development as it was. She got up, and hurried out of the tent, looking for Brenan. Matera found him stirring ingredients into a wide, shallow carved wooden bowl full of steaming water.

"Hurry Brenan, we need that stuff bad." Matera's voice echoed the urgency that she felt. Brenan looked up and nodded, dumping more powder into the bowl and stirring faster. Matera grabbed a bone from Brenan's pouch and started stirring with him.

The contraction wore down, and a small trickle of blood appeared between Etra's legs, she took a deep breath and trembled from fear as well as from the tremendous exertions her body was putting her through. It was all Etra could do to not lose hope, she was absolutely terrified.

Latie carefully wiped Etra down with a soft rag wet with cool water. Tulie talked to her with a low, smooth, and reassuring voice. Though Etra couldn't understand the words, she did understand the woman who spoke them.

Matera came back into the tent with Brenan right behind her. They made room for the two of them to kneel down in front of Etra and got busy. Matera reached into the bowl and cupped some of the hot, slimy liquid and started rubbing it between Etra's legs. The liquid was slick and slimy, and smelled strongly of boiled fat and datura. When she had coated the tops of Etra's thighs, she got another dollop from the bowl and started smearing it up inside Etra, as deep as her fingers would go.

Another contraction set in.

Etra gritted her teeth, and flung her head to one side as the pain wracked her. She felt the baby shift slightly and it gave her a spurt of strength and energy. She redoubled her efforts and bore down and pushed all the harder. The opening between her legs trembled and opened just a fraction wider.

The contraction reached its peak and slowly waned.

"We have to get her to her feet, if she can't get the baby out alone we will have to try and help her—we're running out of time." Matera said, the urgency in her voice was unmistakable and commanding.

Tulie and Tressie pulled her to her feet, Etra couldn't have gotten up unassisted. Tulie looked at Brenan. "Get up here behind her."

Brenan obeyed and Tulie showed him how to hold Etra up by wrapping his arms around her just under her armpits.

Tulie knelt under Etra, and waited. She looked up into Etra's pained eyes, and signed. 'I help, you push. Baby come.'

Etra felt better for a fleeting moment, she had never known Trull-ee to fail at anything. The huge woman gave her a measure of confidence that she didn't have before. Etra took a deep breath, and the next pain began.

Brenan struggled to hold Etra securely, she was heavy and she kept trying to lean forward and squat down. He pulled up against her harder and held on for all he was worth, his legs trembled with his efforts.

Tulie reached up and put both hands inside Etra's opening, the backs of her hands and fingers touching. When she felt Etra begin to push, Tulie pulled as hard as she could to open Etra wider. Her left hand slipped out, slapping Etra's thigh hard. Tulie got a fresh grip and tried again, the liquid Matera had spread all over, and inside her made it very difficult to get a firm grip, but her determination was pure.

Etra bore down harder, and Tulie pulled at the same time. Harder and harder, both women struggled. It seemed like a long time, then Etra cried out and she slowly opened up and the top of the babies head came into view. Tulie grasped the head from each side from inside of Etra and started to pull it toward her with measured firmness.

With a sudden extra hard push by Etra, the head slid out and free from the tight confines of the birth canal. Tulie pulled gently and the babies body came down into her hands, the rippled cord wrapped around the upper thigh of the infant boy.

Etra gasped, dropping her head down to her heaving chest. Brenan struggled to hold her up, planting his feet all the firmer and digging in with his toes.

Latie helped Tulie clear the mucous from the mouth and nose of the little boy. Matera thumped his feet, then again. He opened his mouth wide and coughed up a glob of mucous, then screamed out.

Etra heard the scream, and her body relaxed and slowly she went completely limp. Her son screamed again, even louder this time.

**********

'Clan leader, I come to inform you that the medicine woman, "Etra" has given birth to a new son of the Clan.' Inca signed with her head bowed demurely low as she knelt before Rug who sat on the large log at the central fire. This was not something that she was supposed to do, but Etra was in no condition to do it herself.

Rug nodded, then signed. 'Is "Etra" well?'

'This woman does not know, "Etra" had a difficult birth, the healers of the "Others" attend her. The infant is healthy and well formed.'

Rug grunted, dismissing Inca who stood and walked away with a little difficulty. It was obvious that she was still hurting from the birth of her own son. He looked to Mog-ur beside him with concern on his face.

Mog-ur saw his questioning look, and nodded and got up and walked over to the tent. Tulie met him at the tied back front flap, she wiped her hands and arms with a wet skin. The look in her eyes told Mog-ur much, but whetted his curiosity all the more.

"Etra" hard time, but she should be all right.' Tulie signed in her child like version of the sign language of the Clan. 'Will need time better.'

Mog-ur looked at her in confusion, Tulie thought about it for a moment, then tried again. 'Need sleep, need time heal.'

The expression on Mog-ur's face softened, he understood. Inside the tent, a baby squalled for a brief moment, then quieted.

**********

The women of the Clan were all uncomfortable, this was not normal and it bothered them. The women of the Others prepared and served the meal while the three of them sat on the choicest spot of the main log that was usually taken by the leaders. Each of them had their babies tucked under the open front flap of their tunics, two were sleeping but Inca's little boy nursed vigorously with loud pops and slurping noises.

Tulie and Marsie served them platters of hot venison, fish, and stewed carrots with seasoned mushrooms. Nezzie sat beside Etra, gently stroking the back of her baby's head, his light brown hair curly and thick. Nezzie had never seen a baby with so much hair at birth, and she found she couldn't keep her fingers out of it.

The men of the Clan all looked like proud papas. Not knowing who was responsible for these fine new Clan babies from these three unmated women, they could safely assume whatever they wanted to. Of course, they all hoped for the boys to be the product of the blending of their spirits—except for the Mog-ur that is.

Though he would never admit it, Mog-ur already seemed to have a soft spot in his heart for the new little girl of Ova's. Mog-ur had grown really attached to the attention and love that little Ooga showered him with. Her nightly ritual of falling asleep in his lap and the way she liked to cuddle up to him had formed a strong, loving bond between them. Mog-ur couldn't help but to look forward to another little girl if she was to be anything like her older sibling.

Ooga brought Mog-ur a platter of food and a bowl of stew. She lowered her head when she held it out to him, then flashed her sparkling eyes to him before turning to go back to serve more men their evening meal. She was a real helper when it came to cooking and serving, and even the men of the Clan enjoyed her bright eyed enthusiastic demeanor. Ooga was a constant joy for everyone.

**********

"...it will be several days for the raft to be ready anyway." Talut was saying to the leaders around him. They all sat around the fire, sipping tea with full, contented bellies. Tornec translated.

"We need to give Etra a few days rest, she had a really hard time of it all." Tulie said tiredly, she was worn out mentally from the last two days. The entire birthing process as well as acting as a midwife was hard on the head. Tulie had never seen such robust and well formed newborns, the infants of the Clan seemed somehow older and more fully developed than babies of her own kind. The birthing was exceptionally harder on the mothers though, Etra had given Tulie a real fright. It gave her a lot to think about as she looked over at Nezzie with Ooga and Ova's baby in her swollen lap.

"Well, since we are going to be here for a few more days, what do you think about getting in another hunt?" Ludeg asked, sitting between Salen and Thorec.

"We could go out scouting in the morning to the north." Salen chimed in.

"I like that idea." Talut added.

"Oh Talut, you're just thinking of your belly..." Vincavec quipped, getting a chuckle from the gathering and a red face from a grinning Talut.

**********

Danug slipped his right arm around Tressie's waist tentatively. She was caught a little by surprise, but didn't pull away. They walked just outside the light of the fire on the north side of the camp, at the edge of a pair of wide willow trees.

"How does your arm feel these days?" She asked, trying to give herself a little room to think. She had noticed Danug's growing attention, and though pleased with it he was a little intimidating in a strange way. It had been a real surprise when he asked her to take a walk with him. Tressie had known Danug most of her life, but the two of them had been little more than casual acquaintances over the years. He was awfully handsome though, she thought, feeling the warmth of his hand at her waist. But he is so big, she worried.

"Thanks to you, it almost feels normal now." Danug answered, glad that the darkness covered the growing redness of his face and neck. "It gets sore when I use it too much, but that is getting better too."

They walked along in silence for a while, getting farther and farther out of sight of the camp. It was a clear night with the barest sliver of the moon glowing in the sparkling sky overflowing with stars. The soft rustling of falling leaves murmured all around them.

"How is it being a healer?" Danug asked, searching for something to talk about. He was definitely more comfortable listening to Tressie talk than to talk himself. Danug didn't trust himself to not say something foolish, it was much safer to just listen. Shy by nature, he was really shy around this beautiful young woman.

"It is mostly good, very good." Tressie said, then went on. "When I help people it gives me a warm, satisfied feeling inside."

Danug could relate to feeling warm inside, though for very different reasons right now.

"But when I can't help, like it happened with Aba or Manuv, it leaves me feeling like a failure. All empty, and stupid." Tressie's voice grew softer. "It really hurts when there is nothing that I can think of to do to make things better. I have no idea why Aba died, or why she couldn't move her body hardly at all there at the end. Sometimes I think I really know nothing at all."

Danug felt her body shudder slightly beside him. He pulled her a little more tightly to him, and stopped walking and her body melded to his side. She dropped her head, and Danug heard her labored breathing. Tressie was crying softly, and leaned her head against his chest as she turned to partially face him. Danug slowly wrapped his powerful arms around her, pulling her close.

Tressie felt the strength of his arms, and the feeling of security that they brought her as he held her tight. She reveled in the warmth of Danug's embrace, and without thinking about it she lifted her lips up to his. The kiss was soft and tentative at first, but when she felt his arms tighten even more, she kissed him with growing fervor.

Danug returned the kiss without thinking about it, but when Tressie opened her mouth and licked lightly across the front of his lips, he melted with the feelings of passion and love that overwhelmed him suddenly. He opened his mouth to her probing tongue, and instantly tasted the sweetness of her as his heart melted.

**********

Branag and Jozen followed the boys as they worked the shoreline of the river, heading south. The early morning air was cool and brisk, and every single gust of the breeze sent a fluttering fresh spattering of colorful leaves into the air. Brug already had bright white ermine tied to his belt, and it flopped on his thigh as he walked slowly a half step behind Mortan.

Mortan froze in place, staring into the water near the bank. He started backing away so slowly that it was hard to see, Brug mirrored his every move. When the boys were well away from the bank of the river, they both pulled the scabbards off their backs and set them down in the brown grass at their feet.

Jozen watched, and whispered to Branag softly. "I wonder what they're after."

"Catfish I bet." Branag answered, watching Brug loop the cord around his left wrist and arrange the rest of the coil into the palm of his hand. Both boys moved with the confidence of older, more experienced hunters.

It didn't take them long at all to switch weapons and move slowly back toward the river through the short grass. They approached from behind a short bush that was completely devoid of leaves, crouching as they got closer to the water. Mortan snuck around the right side of the bush, Brug moving to the left. They moved so slowly and so totally together that it was a joy for Branag and Jozen to watch.

Mortan made a soft popping sound with his lips, and both boys stopped and raised the slender gaff tipped spears slowly into position. With a graceful, fluid motion, Mortan threw his spear into the water with barely a splash. Brug's spear followed a split second later.

The water boiled suddenly, and the boys let out the cords a little at a time, holding a slight tension to slow the movement of the fleeing fish. The heavy ripple caused by the tail of the fish moved toward the center of the river to the south, and both boys started to pull against the cords a little harder. The last few loops of cord were all they had left in their hands, and they increased the tension on the line even more.

Branag grinned as he watched the struggle, proud that the boys were playing the fish so patiently. Jozen was amazed at the expertise the young hunters displayed, first letting the fish run, then slowing him carefully before starting to bring him back in. He had never seen them work on their own before, and was more than duly impressed.

Just as Mortan tightened the line to a stop, Brug's cord snapped with a pop. The look on Brug's face made Mortan laugh aloud and he pulled back a little harder. Brug scowled, then stepped back and watched as Mortan started pulling the fish to shore a little bit at a time. Mortan chuckled as he reeled him in, hand over hand. The look on Brug's face when the line broke, he thought, what a look.

Brug got a look at the fish when it rolled over at the surface, it was big and it looked like a catfish. Mortan took his time bringing the fish in, and had to let him take line a couple of times when the fish got a fresh spurt of frantic energy. Brug stood beside him, watching how he fought the fish, knowing that Mortan was doing everything just perfectly.

Mortan finally got the fish back into the shallows, and Brug pulled off his foot coverings and his leggings and hopped down into the cold water. It reached him at mid thigh, and he felt chill bumps cover him as he waited and watched. Mortan worked the fish upriver deftly, taking his time.

The fish surged against Mortan again when he saw Brug's legs ahead of him in the water, but Mortan didn't let him have line for very far. This time when he got the fish back into the shallows, the fish was about played out. Brug reached down and grabbed the fish by the gills, and dragged him ashore in the slick mud.

"Wow, will you look at the size of that fish." Jozen said, completely astonished at the catfish that flopped in the short grass.

"That's my boys." Branag said, his pride showing through his every movement as they walked through the brush toward them to the south.

**********

"Look at that!" Salen whispered, pointing off to the northwest.

Through the scattered trees a single aurochs limped as she moved from one place to the next, dropping her head to graze every few steps. It was a most unusual sight, the aurochs was almost completely white with a single deep reddish brown spot that wrapped around the center of her back and up her neck a little way.

"She's walking funny." Ludeg whispered, watching her as she stood up straight to take a few steps forward. "Something's wrong with her."

"Yeah, she got spotted by some hungry men with spears, that's what's wrong with her." Frebec said softly, grinning broadly.

Rug held his arm up, and waved it slowly, first to the west, then continued it to the northwest in a wide sweeping arc. Troog nodded beside him, then pointed to a patch of brush directly to the west. Frebec saw what Rug was suggesting, and he realized suddenly that this was no longer a scouting party.

The seven men studied the situation silently for a while, they were overly wary. It was not normal at all for an aurochs, other than a full grown adult bull, to ever be alone. They stood in the shade of an alder, leaves falling all around them. Gralon stood next to Borg, and the two of them watched the aurochs lift her head up with a mouthful of brown grass.

The aurochs position within the scattered trees at the edge of thicker woods behind her made for an easy assault, if at least a couple of them could get into position behind her.

The biggest problem the hunters faced was the lack of cover between them and the cow.

Rug pointed to Salen and Troog and made two semi circles in the air with his finger, first from one side, then to the other. Troog and Salen both nodded, then headed out in opposite directions. Salen went north, Troog to the west. Both of them moved away in a low crouch, steady and slow.

Frebec looked to Rug, then made several pointing gestures at three small patches of brush out in the grass. Rug watched his motions, then nodded. The five hunters all dropped their weapons and started pulling up grass and twigs from the ground around them, tucking it into their clothing for camouflage.

**********

Troog stood still in the shade of an oak tree, watching for Salen. He could see the white cow through the trees, she was unaware of them so far. A bright blue bird screeched at him from the west, watching his every move. Troog stood so still that a squirrel climbed down the trunk of the tree right next to where he had his right hand resting on it. The squirrel stopped suddenly, lifting his head to sniff around, then turned and scrambled back up the tree in a rush. Near the top of the tree, the squirrel stuck his head back around the trunk and looked down at the human that had startled him, his tail twitching rapidly with agitation.

Salen whistled softly, low pitched and airy sounding. Troog looked a little back farther to the west and spotted him between the trees. Salen made a crude sign, asking if he were ready, and Troog nodded his head.

Both men started working their way back east, slowly and quietly toward the cow. They paused every time she lifted her head, and moved on when she lowered it. It was slow going, but they finally got to the last of the cover between them.

With a sudden shout, Salen rushed at the cow with Troog doing the same from two dozen steps to his right. The cow jumped sideways, and almost lost her balance, something was definitely wrong with her and it was obvious when she took off away from the hunters. The lurching, clumsy gait of her run was cut short by a series of well thrown spears just as she cleared the cover of the scattered trees. They came from two directions, and she didn't get far before the effort of running was just too much for her. When she fell, she hit the ground hard, breaking three spears.

The hunters gathered around the fallen cow, Rug cut her neck with his knife, and stepped back to allow her to expire. The reason for her limp was obvious now, her rear flank had four long claw marks that started near where her leg met her body, and stretched down and back nearly to the knee joint. It must have been one huge cat, judging by the distance between the claw marks. The cat claw wounds looked to still be rather fresh, as they had broken open in several places just from her short run. The cow stilled.

**********

Talut rolled the heavy log over one last half turn, snugging it against the body of the raft. With a grunt, he twisted his huge frame and shoved it forward until the ends of the logs evened out. When he stood up, sweat dripped into his eyes, stinging and burning and blurring his vision. He wiped his brow with the back of his sweaty hand, and his eyes burned all the more. The late afternoon sun was still bright and harsh. It had been a long, hard last two days, he thought, but fruitful. This raft is almost ready.

Wymez and Rymar worked on the opposite side of the raft, tying the long cross brace tight with long strips of leather. The front cross brace was a little crooked and raised up a little bit, so Rymar sat on it to hold it down while Wymez wrapped the strap around the outer most log.

"Nice job." Talut said to Rymar, chuckling as his eyes cleared slowly.

Rymar grinned, and Wymez pulled hard against the strap crossing it over against itself to hold it tight. Rymar stood and stepped gingerly off the raft, and picked up a short pole and jammed it into the gap where Wymez held the cris crossed strap. Wymez sat back, then started wrapping the length of the strap back around the intersection again.

The raft was nearly complete, one last log lay off to the side, already trimmed and ready to set in place.

A small pile of long, thick poles lay a little bit closer to the water and were being scraped and smoothed by Brenan and Tulie. Brenan had made special flint scrapers for the chore and they worked well, cutting the efforts required to smooth away all the rough edges considerably.

The river here was wide and shallow, but looked to be a little swift out in the center of the current. The near side was mostly a deep brown colored, slick mud, this river was low. Across the wide span of water, the opposite shore looked to be mostly gravel and rock, and the banks rose up steeply into a knee high ridge. The plan was to pole the craft all the way across.

This raft was nearly square, without the outriggers of the last raft and it was not quite as large. Instead of two cross braces, this raft had three for additional strength. The last raft had begun to come apart on the last trip over, and no one wanted to risk that happening again. Luck had been with them though, and no structural failure ever completely developed.

It would take at least three trips to get everyone across, Talut judged looking the raft over again, perhaps four.

**********

The first tent was packed and folded up as the first light of dawn broke over the trees. A steady stream of people made their way down to the river bank, carrying all they were able each trip. Tulie organized the mass of bundles and belongings into three, moderately sized piles, a sledge forming the centerpiece of each pile.

Talut supervised the final chores left on the construction of the raft, and he and several other men went over it carefully checking every knot and brace. If any knot looked weak or flimsy, they doubled it up with a fresh strap. The raft was well constructed, and ready to go before the sun completely cleared the treetops.

Brenan and Branag used some of the tree trimmings to make a wide path through the mud and down to the waters edge. Druwez and Danug helped, between the four of them the chore went quickly. The path helped the treacherous footing substantially, but it was still a slippery walk down to the water.

It took twelve men to carry the heavy raft to the waters edge, huffing and puffing the entire way. Once they got it into the river and afloat, Talut pounded a heavy pole into the mud and tied the raft to hold it steady and to assist in loading her up.

There were plenty of leather straps available on deck to tie everything down in the center of the vessel, and enough room for eight people not including the those with poles for the first trip over. Four men of the Clan joined with three men of the Others, and Tulie, to pole them across.

Mog-ur, Crag, and the two young hunters, Brug and Mortan, went on the first trip over along with Tressie, Nezzie, and three of the younger children. The trip across was slow, but mostly uneventful. The water was a little deeper and moved more rapidly than it looked like from the shore, but it never got too deep for the long push poles and they made it across safely.

The return trip was much quicker, it took a lot less effort to push an empty raft. Even with only six on the push poles the crossing was relatively easy, Tulie and Crag stayed on the other side. Talut had guessed correctly, it did take four trips to get everyone and everything across.

The camp was set up for the night by the time the forth trip was done. Warmed over stew and a large slab of pre-cooked aurochs haunch made up the evening meal. If the warmed over aurochs meat was tough, Talut didn't notice.

Other than the night guards, everyone else turned in early. It had been a long, hard day.

**********

"If you are going to keep kissing me, a bear could sneak up on us and we'd never even hear it." Tressie whispered.

Danug blushed, pulling his head back away from her face. The firelight of the northern most perimeter fire flickered behind her, giving her hair reddish brown sparkling highlights, she is so beautiful, he thought again. His heart beat rapidly, and Danug could feel every single beat as it pounded hard against his chest. He wondered if Tressie could feel his heart as he pulled her a little closer. Danug kissed her again.

"Don't worry, no bear would dare to disturb us." Danug whispered in her ear, biting her earlobe softly.

"Some guard you are." Tressie whispered back, then gasped at the electric shocks that ran through her when he nibbled on her ear again.

**********

The trees were all pretty much bare now, and colored leaves covered the ground like a fine, crunchy carpet. The sledges slid easily over the slick leaves, though it made for clumsy walking at times. The days were getting cooler and the nights were starting to get flat out cold. It had been five full weeks since the river crossing.

Nezzie and Matera could no longer keep up on a full days walk, and Fralie and Regan were not too far behind them. Tulie kept a close eye on the four of them, calling for a halt earlier and earlier each passing day. The last two days they stopped to make camp with several hours to spare before dark.

Though never too far from the sea, the travelers tried to stay far enough inland to have good access to firewood and game. Most of the time, trees of any real size wouldn't grow much closer than a quarter days walk from the windy seashore.

It had been so gradual that most of the camp didn't notice when the direction they walked slowly changed and modified itself. They were now heading almost due south, following around the seashore at a constant parallel.

A heavily wooded hillside framed the horizon out in front of them, and it looked to be a good place to camp until all of the impending babies were born. Another day or two should get them there.

The craggy slopes were dotted with evergreens mixed in amongst the naked, drab looking trees adding swatches of bright color to the monotony of the soft tans and browns. Large patches of bare, grey rock stuck out in places where the hillside rose up more predominately, and late in the evening a trio of white long horned sheep were spotted grazing high up the slope.

**********

"What about over there?" Ludeg asked, pointing to a wide rock outcrop that formed an arc facing the narrow creek to the southeast.

"It looks good from here, let's check it out first before we all get wet feet though." Talut answered, studying the possible camp site with a critical eye. No better looking place was in evidence, but Talut was perpetually wary.

There was no telling just how long they would need to stay here, so they needed a good, secure camp site with a supply of fresh water and good hunting. The wooded valley looked secure enough, and the slopes should prove to be an adequate wind break, Talut thought.

Ludeg walked over to the edge of the narrow creek, then sat down to pull off his foot covers and hitch up his leggings. Danug, Rug, and Talut followed suit, and the four of them walked through the shallow, cold water and on up the gravel banks on the other side. They walked east toward the rock formation, wary and alert.

**********

The tents were set up in a wide 'V' shape, backing up to the rock ledge. The tent openings close enough together to make passage from one to the other easy and quick. A large central fire pit was ringed with heavy rock, the ground was too cold and rocky to dig down very far at all. Three perimeter fire pits were placed strategically out in front, and several small patches of brush cleared to make it hard for anyone or anything to sneak up on the camp. The creek was only a short walk to the west.

The campsite was ideal in many ways. The wide rock formation was a fabulous wind break, and the amount of dead fall vast and easy to gather. Near the creek, animal signs were abundant, hunting should prove to be good. As before, the smaller of the two traveling tents was set up for the new mothers and those that would be shortly.


	23. Chapter 18 Part 2

**Chapter Eighteen**

_Falling Leaves_

**Part Two**

The night air was cold and somehow heavy feeling. Brenan tucked the loose sleeping fur tighter around his neck, his spear tucked tightly under his armpit as he pushed the fur down inside the top of his tunic to try and quell the constant drafts. Gazing up at the sky, Brenan watched the heavy, billowy cloud cover continue to thicken. Snow clouds, he thought anxiously, has to be.

"Whew, I do believe it's getting colder." Danug said, pulling his own fur tighter around his upper body. His cheeks were bright red, and small bits of frost clung to the hair of his moustache.

The fire popped as a thick pine branch started smoking heavily in the fire pit. A small tendril of flame appeared on each side of the thick stick, seemingly quenching the thick smoke as the flames grew and spread. Brenan tossed another, smaller pine limb onto the top of the thicker one, at an angle.

Both men turned at the sounds of someone coming up behind them. Druwez approached carrying a small tightly woven basket of tea. He was bundled up in his heaviest elk skin parka, with badger mittens covering his hands. Druwez set the basket down and sat down between them.

"Latie sent this," Druwez began, talking to Brenan, then looked over to Danug as he continued. "she told me to tell you that Nezzie's birthing pains have begun."

Druwez shivered, when he breathed out his breath caused a small foggy cloud in front of his face that quickly dissipated in the soft breeze. Brenan pulled the mittens off his hands and dipped a cup of the steaming tea, handing it to Danug. He dipped a second cup, holding it out to Druwez who declined and kept it for himself. Brenan set the cup on the ground just long enough to slip his mittens back on.

From the valley to the north, a wolf song rang out. It turned into a duet, and then a trio in short order. This was a nightly occurrence, and all three of them welcomed the company of the wolves familiar songs.

"I'm supposed to go back and try to keep Talut busy," Druwez said, standing up. "He keeps hovering around Nezzie and getting in the way." Druwez laughed as he went on. "I'll come back later with more hot tea."

Brenan and Danug sat quietly listening to the wolf song in the cold of the night, sipping the hot tea. The fire grew, and its welcome heat helped to take a little of the harsh chill off their faces.

"Brenan, how did you know that Latie was the one?"

Brenan laughed, catching Danug by surprise. "Because Mamut told me she was."

Danug laughed, what a strange answer he thought to himself. "What do you mean?"

Brenan grinned, but with a subtle hint of sadness in his eyes. "I had definite feelings for Latie, but at the time I was on this quest—an endless quest for knowledge. I had every intention of moving on, leaving the Lion Camp and going on to some of the Mamutoi camps to the south. Then the three of us went on that spirit trip with the root of the Clan, and everything changed somehow."

Danug watched Brenan talk in the flickering firelight. Latie had told him her version of the two of them getting together, but he wanted Brenan's version of it. He needed a males perspective. "What do you mean, changed?"

"Well, I can't really describe how scary that place was. I can tell you that what we saw when we went into the future changed a lot of how I felt—about a lot of things." Brenan paused, considering his thoughts before going on.

"When I realized the incredible threat to us all, my first thoughts were to protect Latie. I have to admit, that caught me by surprise." Brenan chuckled, then his face grew long as he spoke again.

"Then after we got back to reality, Mamut..." Brenan's voice broke, and he shivered before taking a deep breath and continued. "Mamut was slow to wake up the next morning, he looked so fragile and seemed to be completely spent. He talked to all of us, Talut and Tulie—and Latie and me. Then he sent us away and talked to Latie alone for a while, then he talked to me."

Danug watched Brenan talk, and a tear welled up in his eye.

"Mamut told me that I had to cancel my plans to leave, that I had to stay at the Lion Camp and that I was to mate Latie." Brenan took a deep breath, a tear rolling down his bearded cheek. "He said that I was to spend my life with Latie, and to protect her and the son she would give me." Brenan looked up into Danug's bright green eyes, glistening with tears of his own in the firelight.

"Mamut said that Bralut was important to the future of the Mamutoi."

Danug thought about all this for a while, considering things he had never thought of before. "But did you love her, Latie I mean?"

Brenan smiled broadly. "More than I knew, more than anything, more than I would ever admit—even to myself."

"I thought I was in love once, when I wintered with that Sungea Camp on my journey. She was a real beauty, sweet and smart—and funny. The man of her hearth was the headman of the camp though, and for some reason he didn't like me very much." Danug stopped, chuckling. "Well, to tell you the truth, he didn't like me because I wasn't Sungea."

Brenan laughed at this, watching Danug as he went on.

"I wouldn't commit to staying there and being adopted by the Sungea, so at the first signs of the back of winter being broken he 'suggested' that I might want to continue my search."

Brenan laughed, and Danug joined him.

"It's Tressie, isn't it?" Brenan asked.

Danug looked at him with a crooked grin. "Yes."

"So what's the problem?"

Danug closed hie eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm scared."

Brenan grinned, "It's a scary thing—being in love."

"It wasn't the first time." Danug opened his eyes, looking back at Brenan. "I guess that means I wasn't really in love, huh?"

"Smart man. Real love is always scary."

Danug's eyes got serious. "Tressie scares me to death, I guess that means it's really love this time. All I can think of is making a hearth with her and living happily ever after."

"The 'ever after' is the fun part." Brenan said. "Since you don't have Old Mamut to tell you, I'll do it for him. Take her, make her your own. Love her for the rest of your days—be as happy as Latie makes me."

Danug smiled, that all sounded so good to him. "But what if she doesn't want me?"

Brenan laughed, "The scariest thing I've ever done was to tell Latie of my love for her and to ask her to be my mate. I have faced cave lions, wolves, bears, hyenas, and even hostile humans with spears that all wanted to kill me—but I have never, ever been as scared as when I asked Latie to be my mate."

Danug took this in with a knowing nod. This whole idea is scary all right, he thought, feeling his heart pounding all over again.

"But it is also the most satisfying thing you will ever do." Brenan went on. "If you really feel this way, do it—ask her."

Danug closed his eyes again, taking it all in. Brenan is right, he admitted to himself, he has to be. "I will, I'll do it." A chill hit him all at once, starting at his feet and traveling the length of his long, powerful body.

The wolf songs from the north picked up again, and the first fat snowflakes began to fall.

**********

Talut walked out of the tent grinning from ear to ear and slipped in the snow, falling roughly on his butt. He grinned even broader, looking all around him at the pure white blanket that covered virtually everything in a soft white glow in the deep darkness of the night. He picked up a small handful and tasted it, cold and sweet. The snow wasn't even ankle deep.

An infant's cry rang out from the tent behind him. A new Mamutoi boy—another son of my hearth, he thought, his massive chest swelling with pride. Talut stood up carefully in the slick snow, and walked over to the other tent. He fumbled with the strap that held the flap closed, and finally freed it and ducked inside.

It was rather dark inside the tent, the fire in the center burned low and glowed with a heavy coal bed. He walked over to it, careful not to step on anyone and added several sticks from the nearby pile. He looked over to his right, and knelt down at the small gap between the men to his sleeping furs. By the time he got his footings off, his eyes would barely stay open. It had been a long afternoon and evening, and he was as sleepy as he was proud. Nezzie had done very well, all the healers said so, and the baby boy was well formed with a thin mop of bright red hair.

Talut pulled the furs over him and closed his eyes, picturing his tired mate and strapping new son in his minds eye. He gave silent thanks to Mut, and drifted off into a pleasant, dreamless sleep.

**********

"Ooowww!" Nezzie gasped and tried to pull the stocky infant off her breast. The baby reached out and grasped the soft, spongy flesh of her large breast on each side of his face and latched on tightly. Nezzie pried one hand loose, but the baby bit down hard on her nipple in defiance and she cried out again. "Ooww!"

Tulie sat near her, chuckling at the struggle. "He reminds me a lot of Danug at that age. Never willing to let go to give you a break, always absolutely starving to death."

Nezzie grinned through her angst, holding on to the baby's right hand while working diligently on freeing herself from his left hand. "I think you're right, but this boy is more persistent than Danug ever was."

With a loud pop, Nezzie pulled the infant off her nipple, and got a scream in return from the very unhappy boy. Nezzie held him out away from her body, letting him kick and swing in frustration with both arms. Both women giggled at the erratic temper fit, he kicked so hard that the small wrap tied around his waist fell off and he kicked it at Tulie who caught it with one hand. They laughed all the harder.

Talut heard the commotion and hurried over from the other side of the tent where he had been watching Ranec teaching Ralev to carve on a piece of soaked ivory. When Talut saw Nezzie holding the newest son of his hearth out away from her, and watched how the baby was kicking and screaming, he got there quick.

"Give me that boy." He said gently as he arrived and dropped to one knee in front of Nezzie.

"He's all yours." Nezzie said, letting Talut take him.

Talut pulled the boy up and turned him around to face his massive, bare chest and held him tightly and securely as the baby continued to squeal and kick. The boy grabbed a double handful of Talut's bright red chest hair and yanked with both hands, screaming out in dismay at the severe lack of a meal producing nipple. Talut grinned down at him, enjoying the strength he showed, and the baby screamed again, kicking and kneeing Talut in the belly with one leg after the other. Talut just grinned all the broader and held him just a little tighter.

"There, there little one," Talut cooed, his deep voice resonating strongly through his chest and the boy began to settle down slowly but surely. "That's a good boy. What a fine son you are. See Nezzie, you just have to have the right touch."

A sudden warm wetness caused Talut to lift the baby off his chest, and the boy's bright yellow stream splattered across his lower chest and ran down through the hair on his belly and into the front of Talut's leggings. Talut's face started to get red, and he chuckled despite the rapidly spreading situation.

"I'm glad that you're the one with the right touch, Talut." Nezzie said as she leaned forward with laughter, Tulie joining her loudly.

Talut's face got red, really red and he simply pulled the son of his hearth back against him and rocked him back and forth until the warmth of his water was spent. I have the touch all right, he thought to himself, the wet touch. Talut couldn't help it, he joined in and laughed along with them.

**********

Mog-ur sat at the top of the rock formation partially overlooking the ends of the two tents below on a wide, smooth rock. The late afternoon sun was slowly drifting toward the treetops, and with it went the final remnants of the slight warmth it offered. It was cold up here, but most of the snow had melted gradually over the last three days. All that was left of it was tucked away in the deeper crevasses between the rocks and a few small drifts still piled under a few of the larger evergreens. All these areas stayed mostly shaded throughout the day.

A white faced falcon sat atop the bare limbs of an oak that had lost all its leaves to the northeast, and Mog-ur observed him as he watched around for any potential game. He looked down at the Mog-ur from time to time, unconcerned with his presence.

There were three Clan babies to name and figure out totems for, and this was the second time Mog-ur had gone out to meditate and seek guidance from almighty Ursus to figure it all out. With a camp as large as this one, and with so very many people around all the time, quiet meditation time was a little hard for him to come by lately. Mog-ur found himself being called on to assist the healers as they plied their skills, calling down the protective spirits as medicines and potions were administered to those afflicted with the usual sicknesses of winter.

The falcon locked his eyes on something and lifted his wings momentarily, then dropped off the limb and swooped down and away from the Mog-ur. He disappeared for a little bit, then Mog-ur spotted him again, flying away from him and gaining altitude slowly as he flew over the hilltop to the east. A fat rabbit kicked feebly in the firm, strong grip of his talons.

Mog-ur took a deep breath, and silently thanked Ursus for allowing him to witness the incredible hunting prowess of this magnificent bird of prey. As he cleared the trees and sunk out of sight, Mog-ur closed his eyes to again contemplate the tasks at hand.

All three of these new Clan babies already showed remarkable different personality traits. Inca's boy was quiet and demure, and always hungry. He was the largest and strongest of the three by far. Ova's girl was loud and boisterous, constantly craving and demanding attention. Her frame was small and petite, though wiry and much stronger than she looked. Etra's boy did everything with gusto, he sucked with such ferocity that Etra's nipples stayed chapped and tender, and the boy was already trying to crawl. He had places to go and things to do, or so it seemed.

It surprised the Mog-ur and even distressed him a little bit that every time he thought about the new babies, the female somehow dominated his thoughts. Well, he thought, she certainly is the most vocal of the three.

Mog-ur looked up at the sudden screech of a jay, the long winged deep blue bird with the burnt orange and white chest flittered through the lower limbs of a naked oak nearby to his east. As he watched, it became obvious that the bird was in rapid pursuit of something. A small dark shape fluttered from branch to branch just out of reach and in front of the jay. It was a fat moth that had escaped the onset of the colder weather thus far, but it was unable to escape the agile, persistent jay.

The blue bird screeched again as soon as it swallowed the moth, and hopped restlessly from one limb to the next in search of another tasty tidbit. The blue jay reminded the Mog-ur of the Clan baby girl, in a lot of ways. The more he thought about it the more he was sure that this must indeed be her totem.

Mog-ur took a deep, satisfying breath and shifted his thoughts to the quiet little boy of Inca's, picturing the lad with distinct clarity in his mind as he began to concentrate anew.

**********

"I don't know, I can't name him Talut or Danug, no matter how much he acts like them." Nezzie said to Matera, cradling the sleeping baby in her arm. Nezzie saw her jaw start to clinch shut tightly as the next contraction started.

Latie looked over at Tressie, who gave her a knowing nod. The birthing pains were getting closer together now, it shouldn't be too terribly much longer, but with a first time mother it was always erratic and hard to judge. Tressie waited until the pain had run its course, then handed Matera a cup of medicinal tea as she slumped back down into the deep bed of soft furs. She took it gratefully, and gulped it down in two swallows.

"I need to come up with a name soon, though, he is already five days old." Nezzie continued between Matera's contractions. "I can't just keep calling him 'Baby'. All the names I thought about while I was pregnant were for girls."

Tressie and Tulie both laughed, and Latie smiled as she watched Vincavec circling around them nervously.

"I sure misjudged this one, he is as male as Talut and Danug combined." Nezzie said, shaking her head proudly.

Matera grinned up at Nezzie. She was afraid, though she tried her best to mask the fear. Matera had never had a baby before and though she had assisted in a number of births, it was quite another thing all together when it was happening to you. Besides, she thought, this hurts. It really hurts, bad. Matera felt the warmth of the tea and began to analyze its ingredients, most of them were obvious and easy to identify. The pain numbing datura was more than welcome, despite its bitter taste that was all but impossible to conceal.

"How's she doing? Matera, can I get you anything? Will it be much longer? Is everything all right? Do you need me to do anything? Shouldn't you give her something? Why is it taking so long? Is this normal?" Vincavec walked constant circles around the women attending Matera, anxious and edgy. His questions were directed randomly as he looked from one woman to the next. He was mostly ignored, but Matera really wished he would just leave her alone for a while. Vincavec had hovered over her relentlessly since her first pain early this morning, and now it was almost dark outside. His constant attention was not exactly helping the situation.

Matera was about to tell him to please go away and to come back later when she was suddenly wracked with another contraction, a particularly strong one. She glared up at her mate with a look that said all this was his fault. Vincavec cringed under her baleful glare, and backed off a few steps, wringing his hands together helplessly, the heavy worry lines on his forehead distorting his colorful tattoos into odd shapes.

"Go on, we'll call you when the time is right." Latie said, getting up and taking Vincavec's arm, walking him away from the area and toward a cluster of men gathered at the other end of the tent. Vincavec reluctantly allowed himself to be taken away, glancing over his shoulder as he went. He winced when Matera moaned loudly behind him, and tried to stop and turn back around but Latie pulled him on.

**********

Vincavec gently stroked the baby cradled in Talut's arm. The soft red curls of the sleeping infant felt like down feathers, infinitely soft and almost weightless. He would have a baby of his own soon, and he would feel as proud as Talut looked, he thought. His mind wandered, he was so afraid that all this was taking too long. Something had to be wrong, he just knew it. Vincavec was worried sick, and even though he nodded or chuckled as the men around him talked and told stories, his mind was definitely elsewhere. He was still lost in his own little world when the sudden sound of Matera crying out loudly got his attention. By the time he realized what he was hearing, he jumped up with a pained look on his face and started across the tent. Vincavec made it about six steps when he stopped completely and froze in place where he was at the sound of a baby's soft cry.

He stared at the group of women surrounding his mate, but as hard as he looked, he couldn't see Matera through the circle of women. Vincavec took a tentative step forward, then another. It took him a long time to close the distance between them, and his heart beat so hard that he started feeling mild chest pains. The sizable lump in his throat seemed to grow and swell, he couldn't even swallow and even breathing was getting harder. Through the dense fog of his worried, cluttered mind he heard Latie's voice as if she were talking softly through a distant waterfall.

"Matera, congratulations you have a beautiful daughter."

**********

Branag led them to the top of the rise, slowing so they could sneak a look down into the flats below unseen. There were six of them, scouting game more out of boredom than a real need for meat. Rug slipped quietly up beside him, and together they crept the rest of the way up the ridge, the sky still colored softly with pastel yellows and oranges with the dawn.

The sunlight hadn't yet fully reached the flats at the bottom of the wide valley below, but Rug pointed to a scattered group of dark shapes that stood out against their lighter surroundings to the southeast. A dark, wide strip of scattered trees and dense looking brush ran the length of the valley in a winding path, probably following the banks of a runoff creek.

Troog and Ludeg snuck up beside them on one side, while Draag and Druwez looked over the rise from the other. They all watched the valley wake up slowly with the morning sun.

It was cold this morning, but not as cold as it had been of late. The brief cold snap that had come with the brief snowstorm had blown on through, and the days had warmed back up a little bit at a time ever since. The sky was almost clear this morning, with only a few billowy clouds to be seen in the light blue vastness.

The dark shapes were eventually identified as bison, and they weren't alone. By the time they could see with better clarity down into the valley, horses and several megaceros were also spotted. A single cave bear stood tall pulling down a branch of an evergreen, chewing the bright greenery with relish.

These coastal lands teemed with an almost over abundance of wildlife. The availability and quality of food stuffs sustained life easily, for both predator and prey.

A small group of hyenas lounged in the morning sun at the far end of a wide patch of brown brush, and a small pack of dholes trotted through the knee high tan grass off to the east.

To the far northern end of the valley, almost out of the range of their vision, a single mammoth grazed peacefully. Sunlight glistened off his huge tusks as he lifted his head to bring a clump of grass up with his long trunk. He shook the grass, then hit it against his shoulder twice, knocking off the excess dirt before taking the first bite.

**********

"There are vast pickings if we want to stage a hunt, deer, bison, horses—even a lone mammoth." Branag grinned as he related what all they saw from the ridge. "There was even a huge cave bear right out in the open."

Mog-ur watched Tornec translate, and wondered if the Others considered Ursus as a normal food source.

"Mammoth!" Talut's voice overflowed with excitement. "If we are going to hunt why would we try for anything else if there is a mammoth available?"

"He's an old male, a huge old male." Ludeg said. "Probably not an easy target."

The light wind shifted slightly with a sudden gust, blowing the smoke of the central fire pit over the men on the south side of the pit. A few of them coughed and sputtered, then the gust faded and the smoke cleared.

"Well, it's up to you all, but I think we could take him." Talut said confidently, sure that this bunch could do virtually anything.

Rug considered the idea of hunting this huge mammoth, his mouth watering at the very thought of the heavy, tender meat richly marbled with fat. Hunting a lone male was not something that a group of Clan hunters would normally attempt, a lone bull mammoth was the most dangerous prey of them all. Fast and strong—and very smart. He wondered what this group of mixed hunters would decide, and what strategy they would come up with if they attempted the hunt.

Mog-ur was pleased that the talk of the hunt never really focused in on the cave bear, in fact it wasn't even mentioned other than the original recognition of his presence in the valley. The status of these people went up another notch in his mind.

The discussion continued around the fire.

**********

Vincavec caressed the back of the infant girls nearly bald head while she nursed. He was totally without words, if he opened his mouth to say anything he was sure that the words would all catch in his throat. Vincavec had not slept at all this night, and up until a few moments ago, he had watched the top of the tent lighten with the sunrise, holding the daughter of his hearth against his chest. His relief that Matera had finally come through it all without serious problem was so overwhelming that he felt as spent as she looked. That was all done and over with now, and he was mentally as spent as he had ever been. Oh, this precious little girl, he stroked the back of her neck again, and Matera opened her eyes for a brief moment and smiled up at him.

A wave of intense warmth washed over him, and Vincavec felt the tears well up again. For the first time in his life, he felt totally, absolutely complete.

**********

Danug felt the hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently, and he smiled and pulled Tressie closer to him in his sleep. Her naked body was warm and comforting. He absently kissed her cheek, still deep in the fog of sleep. The hand shook his shoulder again, with more force this time.

"If you are coming with us, you have to get up and get ready, it's time to go." The voice was soft, but firm.

Danug opened one eye, staring up into the dim firelight inside the tent. Ludeg squatted over him, smiling. Danug took a deep breath, then nodded feebly and Ludeg stood up.

"We're leaving in a little bit, if you're coming with us you'd best get dressed, it's cold out." Ludeg was still grinning as he walked away.

Danug lay still, waking up slowly. His thoughts replayed every exquisite moment of the night, his first night spent with Tressie. It all seemed to be a magical blur, but it had to be real, she was laying right here next to him.

Did I really ask her to join with me, he asked himself, knowing good and well that he had. What a warm feeling this is, he thought, I'm going to really be mated. Me. A brief shudder went through him as he squeezed Tressie to him one more time before rolling out from under the heavy sleeping furs. Wow, mated. The thought stuck to the front of his mind as he sat up to pull on his leggings. Wow.

**********

It was cold out, frost clung to the short, brown grass and it crunched under foot as the large group of men walked to the north around the base of the rock outcrop. They followed along the bottom of the rise in the dark, moving as quickly as the slick footing allowed. Dawn was still a couple of hours away.

Talut and Ludeg led the band of all men, eighteen of them in all if you counted Druwez as an adult. They walked two to three wide, snaking their way through the short brush and trees. Heavy spears were the order of the day, and those who hunted with the spear throwers had their larger spears instead of the smaller, lighter spears used for everyday hunting. There was no place for the smaller spears in a mammoth hunt.

When they reached a dry runoff ditch behind a pair of short, stocky pines, Ludeg veered the band up the hill. The ditch wasn't very wide, and it traversed the side of the hill at a wide angle. It made for easier walking, but there were still a few snow drifts and slick patches in the deeper cuts and grooves in the hillside.

Halfway up the hill, the tree cover started to increase, making the darkness more acute and the footing a little more treacherous. It seemed to take a long time to reach the crest of the rise, walking up the ditch was slow and ponderous with the uneven rock bottom. Most of them used the butts of their spears as walking sticks, but there were still a lot of slips and slides as they worked their way up.

When they finally reached the hilltop it was still dark, but the dawning was now imminent. They stopped just short of the crest and Ludeg and Talut knelt down to watch below and wait for daylight.

"So you really did it? You asked her?" Branag asked Danug in a soft voice.

Danug grinned, and his cheeks already red from the cold air grew even redder in the darkness.

"What, you asked Tressie to mate with you?" Brenan asked, a bit of melodrama in his voice.

The three men sat together at the lower fringes of the loosely congregated group on the hillside, passing strips of dried aurochs meat between them. Danug chewed the tough meat, wishing they would just eat and leave him alone, but knowing that they wouldn't.

"So I guess she said yes if you were sharing her furs in the night." Branag went on, pausing to tear a piece of the dried meat off with his teeth.

Danug blushed again, thinking back to the incredible pleasures they shared. Any kind of real privacy within the confines of either tent was not even a remote possibility. At his moment of release, Danug had actually cried out. Any thought of discretion was lost from that moment on, and Tressie had actually giggled at his pent up cry of passion. The entire tent knew, probably the whole camp, he thought with embarrassment.

"Well, from what I heard I guess it all went well?" Brenan teased.

Branag chuckled under his breath, and Brenan joined him. Danug chewed the tough strip of meat, his face as red as it could get.

**********

The bull mammoth was nowhere to be seen in the first dim light of the breaking dawn. The valley was still mostly dark all the way across the vast expanse of the bottom lands, but several dark shapes were already becoming visible. None of them were large enough to be the mammoth, though. The light grew in intensity slowly as the glow of the sun increased gradually.

"There, is that him?" Ludeg whispered, pointing down the slope below them to the north.

"That's him all right. He must have bed down in the trees." Talut whispered, watching the dark spot moving slowly through the trees. He began formulating a strategy to hunt the huge beast in his mind.

"This is not going to be easy if he stays in the trees." Ludeg observed.

Talut just nodded his head, studying the slope above the mammoth. Hunting mammoth was never easy, he thought, but it was always worth the effort.

**********

Brug used the tip of his spear to point at the light tan colored, spotted shape through the trees, Mortan nodded and knelt down beside him. With quick signs, they silently formulated a plan of attack. It didn't take long at all.

Mortan backed away from Brug, who stayed hunched over behind the fallen tree. He backtracked quietly, and didn't stand up straight until he was well away from Brug. Mortan circled wide to the north, keeping as much cover as he could between him and the creek.

Crag stood well to the south of the boys beside a gnarly oak, patiently waiting and watching them work from a distance. He caught occasional glimpses of the two hunters as they worked the creek, he followed along behind them but stayed well out of the way. Crag pulled the hood of his parka tighter around the sides of his face. The morning air was cold and he could see his every breath.

Mortan stopped behind a patch of naked brush, peering over the tops of the twisted, leafless twigs. It took him a little bit to spot the small spotted deer, she was bent over grazing on the short brown grass. Just as he was about to start timing the mostly consistent motion patterns of her grazing so he could begin to move closer, another movement further to the north caught his eye. Mortan froze, and watched.

**********

The hunters split up into three groups. The center group started slowly down the slope of the hill directly toward the bull mammoth who now grazed on the tall tufts of brown grass just out past the bottom of the slope. The other two groups struck out to circle wide around the mammoth in each direction. It was a slow, tedious process to stay hidden as they made their way down the long, gentle hillside. This side of the hill had fewer trees and less brush than the western slope did, but there was still plenty of obstacles to hide their approach if they were careful.

Talut led the northern group of six men, and moved quickly between patches of cover as they stayed parallel to the crest of the hill. The rising sun made it very difficult to see to the east now, glaring brightly.

Branag led the southern group, also comprised of six hunters, and they had the easiest time of it. A spattering of short cedars and bare oaks gave them good cover to stay behind as they circled down the slope to the southeast.

Rug led the center group, and they took their time. The hunt would be over quickly if they were seen or heard by the wily mammoth, so a stealthy approach was absolutely mandatory. Rug kept a sharp eye of the mammoth as they worked their way down the slope, timing their movements to the mammoth's grazing.

Down below, the mammoth moved slowly out away from the trees, following the scattered tufts of tall grass as they led him out into the valley. He faced southeasterly for the most part, though it varied somewhat when he moved from one grass clump to the next.

**********

Brug saw Mortan slink through the brush and get into position behind a tree and out of sight some fifty odd paces to the north. The spotted deer had gone back to the creeks edge to get a drink, and he worried that Mortan may not have seen her move. The doe lifted her head and looked around warily before walking leisurely back over to the spot where she had been grazing. She walked slowly, her ears perked up to listen for any possible dangers. Brug stayed completely still until she lowered her head again to eat.

Mortan leaned out to look around the tree trunk, his eyes wandered from the deer back upstream to where he had seen the other movement. With this vantage point, he hoped to get a better look at whatever else was out there. The doe dropped her head, and Mortan slipped over to another tree, a little closer to the creek.

Brug saw Mortan move up and slide behind the other tree, then lost sight of his hunting partner again. The doe lifted her head up to chew, and Brug held his breath and remained motionless.

Mortan swept his eyes all along the creek bed, there was still no sign of the other animal. He had to make a decision soon, he was in position and he couldn't count on the slight, erratic breeze to mask his scent much longer. 'If you are not sure, wait'. Mortan could see the signs that Crag had made so many times as he taught them the intricacies of stalking game. But, he argued with himself, if I wait much longer we may lose our shot at the deer. He made his decision, and took a deep breath and whistled like a meadowlark.

Brug heard the whistle, and got ready. The doe dropped her head, and he shifted his body and waited.

Crag heard the whistle too, and started walking directly toward the boys slowly.

Mortan pulled a second spear from the scabbard over his back and his primary spear up into position and took off at a dead run at the deer. The leaves crackled under his feet and he didn't get very far before the deer heard his approach. She lifted her head and spotted him immediately, and took off to the south, bounding away along the creek bed. Mortan veered to the southeast as he chased hard after her.

Brug tensed, watching the spotted deer running almost directly at him. Closer, closer, he was just about to jump up when he heard Mortan scream out. Brug turned his attention away from the deer and saw his partner and the terrible sight of the saber toothed tiger chasing him, closing fast. His eyes wide, he ran toward his friend. The spotted deer veered back to the creek and splashed across it to safety.

Crag heard the scream, and knew instantly that something was wrong, bad wrong. He pulled his own spear up and took off at a dead run toward them. He spotted Mortan through the trees, then saw the tiger behind him. He ran as fast as he could, his feet pounding the leaf covered ground.

Mortan dodged around a tree and as soon as he cleared it he looked back over his shoulder, he spun around and threw his spear with all his might. The tiger dodged the spear easily with a single bound to the left, and dug his claws into the dirt as he straightened up and kept coming. Mortan stumbled as he twisted back around but regained his balance and ran on.

Brug pulled up and stood his ground as he lifted his spear high. The tiger was almost to Mortan, and Mortan dodged to his right. Brug lurched forward a step and flung the spear with all his might. The spear wobbled at first, then straightened out and started its descent. The tiger bounded forward and the spear hit his upper shoulder and bounced off, taking a small piece of flesh with it. The tiger slowed, biting at the nicked shoulder, then came forward again.

Mortan gained a little distance when the tiger wavered from the impact of the spear, and it gave him renewed speed. The tiger roared and came after him with a vengeance.

Crag saw Brug's spear glance off the tiger, and crashed through a line of dead briars. He almost lost his footing, and stumbled as he broke through. Crag's breathing was getting labored, but still he ran on.

Brug lifted his second spear, and tried to concentrate on the throw. He couldn't afford to miss again.

Mortan saw Brug out in front of him with a spear poised, and this welcome sight lent strength to his rapidly tiring legs and burning chest.

Brug let it fly with all his might, and knew he had thrown it badly as soon as it left his hand. He tried to throw it too hard, he knew that now, and he struggled to pull the last spear from the scabbard.

The spear flew wide to the right and the tiger saw it coming anyway. He lurched to his right then back forward as the spear flew safely past.

Mortan tripped on an exposed tree root as he tried to put the short tree between him and the tiger. He sprawled face first to the ground, knowing he was a goner.

Crag burst into the open, and yelled out as he threw a spear of his own. The tiger glanced over at him, and saw the spear as it came directly at him. He barely dodged the spear with a bound to his right, and Crag ran right at him with another spear raised high.

Brug ran up to Mortan, and yanked him roughly to his feet. The two boys took off, away from the tiger they thought was still bearing down on them.

Crag yelled out again, and the tiger veered toward him, closing fast. Crag lifted his last spear up and held it toward the tiger, gripping it firmly with both hands. He planted his feet wide and shoved it at the tiger's chest as the tiger jumped at him, claws extended and mouth wide open.

Brug and Mortan ran on, unaware that the tiger had changed targets. The deep pitched scream that rang out behind them caught them both by surprise. They spun on their heels and looked back, the tiger struggled, mauling Crag mercilessly.

**********

Rug looked out from behind the tree in both directions. To his right, he saw Branag and his hunters approaching slowly, crouched down in the grass. To his left, Talut and his men did the same. They had the bull mammoth almost surrounded, it wouldn't be much longer now.

The mammoth lifted his head with a sudden jerk, and he looked off to the north. The scent that reached him on the soft wind gust disturbed him greatly, and his entire body tensed. Though his eyesight wasn't all that great, he was able to spot the odd shapes coming at him through the grass. The bull turned and started away from the encroaching hunters slowly building up to a rumbling trot.

Rug saw the mammoth recognize the group to the north, and hesitated to see what the mammoth would do. When he headed southerly, Rug figured that Branag's group might be able to turn the bull back to the center of the designated kill zone. He decided to hold their all important middle position for a little bit longer.

Talut knew they had been seen, and he and his bunch all raised up and started toward the mammoth in a slow trot. They spread out in a wide semicircle as they advanced, veering easterly.

Branag stood up, and his hunters all stood with him. They still had a lot of distance between them and the bull, and wanted to turn him back toward the others if they could. They all started hollering and waving their spears as they moved directly at the mammoth.

The bull mammoth slowed, waving his huge tusks from side to side, threatening the small humans in front of him. Abruptly, he turned to his right and trotted back toward the base of the hill.

Rug had waited long enough, and broke out of the cover of the trees and led his bunch out into the open. They moved slowly, spreading out as they went.

The mammoth saw them and turned back to the north, his agitation growing.

Branag took off at a quick trot with Ludeg and Borg flanking him. They flared out to the east, trying to complete the circle while Danug went due north with Tornec and Thorec in tow.

Talut, with Druwez beside him, flared more to the east as well, closing the trap.

The mammoth trotted in a slow circle, then came to a stop. The circle of hunters all around him began to close slowly.

The mammoth bull snorted as he turned, his frustration and agitation growing. He picked the biggest gap he could see in front of him and started towards it, and to the open grass beyond.

Talut sped up, waving his arms and yelling as he tried to contain the beast. Branag did the same thing, with Borg veering out even farther to the east.

The mammoth swerved back to the north, away from Branag and Borg, heading straight at Talut and Druwez to his right. Talut ran at him, and the mammoth turned back toward the hill and sped up slightly. Talut got in behind him and gave chase.

Talut slowed, his wind starting to wane, and Rug took over. He ran the bull in a wide circle, and as he started to tire, Thorec picked up and took over the chase. This went on for three full revolutions, and the mammoth was visibly tiring. He slowed considerably, and finally came to a stop looking out to the relative safety of the grasslands beyond. The circle around him tightened with spear wielding hunters. The mammoth hung his head wand bits of whitish foam dripped out of his open mouth, breathing hard and banging his right front foot on the ground.

Talut threw the first spear, hitting the mammoth in the right front leg, the throw was a little off target and bounced off the heavy bone. Two more spears from spear throwers flew in rapid succession, one catching the bull in the left shoulder and the other bouncing off his ribs.

The mammoth trumpeted out in anger, and turned to flee out into the valley. Three more spears flew, striking him squarely in the chest, ribs, and one in the belly. The sudden burst of energy caught most of the hunters by surprise, and everyone to the east scattered quickly, everyone except Borg.

Borg stood his ground, and raised his spear. The bull was bearing down on him when he let it go, the spear burying itself deep into the mammoth's chest. Borg dodged to his left, and took off running without looking back.

Another spear took the bull in the flank, and he lurched forward a little faster, right at Borg. Branag tried to divert the mammoth, and rushed at him from the side, throwing a spear at the bull's neck. The spear bit deep, and the mammoth raised his head and shook it from side to side as he ran on, limping slightly from his wounds and veering southeast. When he slung his head back to the right, his long tusk caught a fleeing Borg from behind, square in the center of his back. A dry snap sounded loudly across the valley.

**********

Brug's eyes went wide, he couldn't believe what he saw. He took off in a dead run back toward the scene of the life and death struggle without thinking, Mortan hot on his heels. Both boys had their last spears up and ready.

Crag was writhing on his back, with one knee up and stuck into the center of the tiger's chest. His hands grasped the fur at the tiger's neck, his hairy biceps flexing powerfully with the strain of holding the heavy cat off him. The big cat's muscles rippled with the massive efforts he put forth trying to get at the stocky man of the Clan. The incredible struggle was at an intense stalemate as Crag did his best to keep the huge, lunging fangs of the tiger away from his face.

The boys ran as fast as they could, but they both felt as though they were moving in slow motion. Brug's lungs were on fire, both from the run and even more from the acute fear he felt for himself, and for his wise teacher. Mortan was in similar physical shape, and they slowed together as they drew back into the range of their spears.

With a sudden surge of pure, brute strength the tiger wrenched his head hard to his left, and then even harder back down forcing himself through Crag's vice-like grip. Crag twisted his head and tried to squirm backwards, but the tiger caught his neck between his powerful jaws. Crag's eyes went white as the tiger bit down and Crag's life ended in a sickening crunch of bones.

"No!!!" Mortan screamed.

Brug raised his spear, and the tiger twisted his head savagely from side to side before he dropped Crag's lifeless upper body back to the ground. His mouth was smeared with blood and his golden-brown eyes glistened with the satisfaction of the struggle and eventual kill. The tiger took a couple of menacing steps towards the boys, growling loudly. When he stopped, he swiped his huge paw at them, claws extended.

Brug reared back to throw the spear, but Mortan slapped his chest to stop him. Brug saw Mortan's hand make a quick sign in front of his chest.

'Too late.'

The tiger lurched forward two bounds, and swiped at them again, growling even louder. The young hunters backed off a few steps, their legs trembling.

'We must get help!' Mortan signed.

I can't just leave Crag like this, Brug thought to himself, his mind screaming at him to do something.

The tiger roared, so loud and so powerfully that both boys flinched and jumped back another few steps. The tiger growled again and swiped at them.

'We have to go.' Mortan signed, and Brug nodded, he had no better idea to offer—and his heart ached because of it.

They backed off slowly, keeping their eyes trained on the tiger at all times. When the big cat turned away from them, they spun around and took off for the camp at a swift run.

The tiger looked back at the retreating hunters, then satisfied that they were gone, he turned back to Crag. He sat back on his haunches beside Crag and built up to a full roar that echoed through the trees. The tiger stood up and sniffed along the length of the body, then grasped Crag by the neck and dragged his heavy body underneath him, deeper into the woods.

**********

Talut took two strong steps forward, gathering his incredible strength, and buried a spear deep into the retreating mammoth's side, the sound of ribs cracking as the spear hit him hard rang out. The bull stumbled for a step or two then regained his balance and tried to flee again.

Branag was the first to reach Borg, sprawled out face down in the grass. His body was in a very unnatural position, and Branag feared the worst. Brenan arrived just as Branag grasped Borg by the shoulder and rolled him over as gently as he could. Borg's head flopped limply, and Brenan tried to soften the blow of it hitting the ground.

Brenan put his face down to Borg's mouth, but he could feel no breath. Brenan shifted his body, straddling Borg and started to push down on his chest in a slow, rhythmic fashion. After nine or ten repetitions, he stopped and dropped his face down again to Borg's mouth. Nothing. Borg's lifeless eyes were wide open and staring back up at him eerily.

Sitting back, a single tear ran down Brenan's face. Branag looked from Brenan back to Borg as two other hunters pounded past them, chasing after the wounded mammoth.

"He's dead." Brenan said softly, his shoulders sagging.

Branag dropped his head, and reached over to grasp Borg's lifeless hand, squeezing it as he bit back his sobs.

The mammoth screamed out behind them as his huge feet pounded the earth in a steady drumming sound.

**********

Tulie looked up at the sounds of something coming at her, crashing through the brush. She saw the boys running at her while she emptied a night basket into a small ditch that was well away from the campsite to the northwest. She knew immediately that something was terribly amiss.

By the time they spotted Tulie and got over to her, Mortan was gasping between his words so badly that Tulie barely grasped what he was trying to say. When she finally realized the basic gist of the story, she told them to stay there and dropped the basket and ran back to camp.

Tulie yelled at the first men she saw, sitting at the western perimeter fire. "Barzec, Wymez, grab spears and come with me—Crag's in trouble!" Her voice broke as she gasped for air, then shouted again. "Tiger!"

Tornec and the Mog-ur joined them, but Rymar stayed behind, still unable to walk fast much less run. The seven of them took off back to the northwest, all carrying an abundance of spears, except for Mog-ur. It didn't take long to get back to the boys at the waste disposal ditch, and they all took off.

The boys led them through the trees and brush at a quick, but wary trot. It seemed to the boys that it took absolutely forever to get back, they didn't realize how far they had ranged during their hunt, but it had been a rather substantial distance. Mog-ur was barely able to keep up with the rest of them after a while, but he persisted as best he could and never flagged too far behind.

When they finally reached the place of the attack, they stopped and scouted the area to try and figure out their next move.

Mog-ur stood over the place where Crag had fallen. He picked up Crag's spear, it was intact but smeared with blood in a few places. It almost seemed to vibrate with the very essence of Crag's consciousness in his hands. The spear was the one that the men of the Others had made and given him as a parting gift at the beginning of this quest. Mog-ur studied the finely crafted weapon, Crag had been so very proud of this spear, he remembered.

He looked back down at the blood stained ground where Crag had fought his last battle. Mog-ur reached down and scooped up a small bit of still wet blood onto the tip of his finger from a tuft of brown, wide bladed grass. He smeared it at the base of the spear where Ranec had carved the Clan styled shape of the falcon, coloring it a deep shade of auburn. The carving matched the tattoo on Crag's thigh exactly. The falcon was his totem.

Brug and Mortan split up and they searched out and found three of the four spears they had thrown while Tornec and Tulie followed them. The forth spear, one of Brug's, eluded them for the moment, he couldn't quite remember where the wayward spear had flown. They rejoined the others where Crag had fallen.

Barzec led them slowly and carefully through the brush, following the blood trail and the distinct signs of where the tiger dragged Crag's body. They hadn't gone too far when they came across Crag's wide belt with all his pouches still attached, Brug picked it up and draped it over his shoulder.

The trail turned and led them back to the creek, then it disappeared where the tiger had crossed the narrow waterway. They gathered at the rocky bank, looking across the creek for any further signs. The trees and brush were much thicker over on the other side, with considerably more evergreens. It would be much harder to see around them for any real distance over there.

"This is not good, that tiger could surprise pretty easily in that thick cover." Barzec said.

"We have to find him." Mortan said loudly with deeply emotional conviction, his dirty face streaked from the trails of his tears. He looked from one face to the next, pleading with his eyes.

"All right, but we have to stay close together—and alert." Tulie said, and took a step toward the cold water of the creek.

"Trull-ee!" Brug's voice was surprisingly firm. Tulie stopped and turned to face Brug, peering deeply into his dark brown eyes.

'We can go back, "Crag" is with Ursus now.'

Tulie cocked her head at Brug's signs, she understood his signs perfectly, but still didn't quite understand.

Mog-ur was surprised at the depth of understanding that Brug showed. More than one hunter had been lost to predators in the past. The Clan believed that when this rare event happened that it was Ursus' way of taking the hunter directly to the world of the spirits at his side. This was actually considered a great honor, the ultimate epitome of a hunter's last hunt.

"Brug" is correct, we will return to camp now. "Crag" is with mighty Ursus, it was his destiny.' Mog-ur signed slowly and eloquently, Tornec interpreted his signs for the Others.

Mortan dropped to his knees, sobbing, his entire body shaking. Tulie took a step toward him, but stopped when Brug did the same, and watched.

Brug knelt beside his hunting partner, and signed where only Mortan could see. A few moments later, they stood up together and turned to walk back to camp. Brug had his hand on Mortan's shoulder. The adults stayed a respectful distance behind them, following quietly.

It took them a long, long time to get back.


	24. Chapter 19 Part 1

**Chapter Nineteen**

_**Footprints in the Snow**_

**Part One**

The image of the tiger came back again and Mog-ur squeezed his eyes tightly shut at the shape of the formidable animal in his mind. He sat on his familiar flat rock overlooking the camp, a brisk wind whipping at him from the north, meditating. Taking a deep breath of the chilling air deep into his lungs, he refocused and directed his mind again.

Mog-ur kept thinking of the Clan infant of Etra's, three times the boy had taken various bone tools from her hand and clutched it like he would someday handle a spear. Again the image of a tiger's huge head appeared behind the boy in his mind, almost as if the tiger was watching over him protectively.

Is this the way of it, he pondered, for the boy who acts a lot like Crag to take for himself the totem of the animal that took Crag directly on to Ursus? A name suddenly came to him, and he considered it along with a tiger as his totem. Cruug, he said to himself softly, Cruug with the totem of the great toothed tiger.

The wind softened suddenly, then stopped and silence descended upon him. Mog-ur cocked his head, looking up at the sky to the north at the billowy clouds that had been getting closer and closer ever since he sat down up here early this morning.

The funeral service for Crag and Borg was one of the most difficult he had ever had to perform, and Mog-ur was still bothered by it. The loss of the Clan hunt leader and the senior most hunter was a blow to his small Clan. One that couldn't really ever be recovered from, there were just too few of them left.

As his mind wandered, the face of the great toothed tiger reappeared in his mind. Mog-ur reached up and caressed the carved bone plate he wore suspended from a leather thong on his chest. One side was carved with a highly detailed image of Ursus, the side facing in with a mammoth. It had been a parting gift from the Others long ago and the Mog-ur wore it with pride. Somehow it aided him when he meditated, it gave him the distinct feeling that Ursus sat with him when he made the hard decisions that affected his Clan.

A pair of jays chased each other through the bare bushes to the northeast, squawking and jabbering loudly at each other, breaking the newfound silence. The two birds were agile and quick, flying effortlessly from just above the ground to swooping up and over the spindly tops of the bare brush and deftly around the tree trunks on the hillside. One led, and the other followed so closely that at times they often appeared to be a single bird.

Mog-ur felt another off topic thought invading his single purpose concentration. He sighed as he allowed this idea to take root, and switched his thoughts back to the Clan adults.

Etra and Rug, the leader and the medicine woman. This would make for a hearth of pure status, but then again, neither of them had any ego for this union to overtly affect how they handled their duties. This is a good match.

Inca and Troog, Ova and Draag. Good matches each, and as much as Draag likes to relieve himself with Ova it is obvious that he is fond of her.

Good matches all, he thought to himself, the one nagging negative thought still lingering. What about me? What about you, he always asked back. Mog-ur had yet to receive an answer to his question.

**********

"...you really think this is a good idea, to do all this so soon?" Vincavec asked Talut, with Tulie sitting beside him at the outside central fire. "What will the Clan think?"

"It was Mog-ur that suggested the idea to me." Talut said simply.

"Besides, we need to name our own babies and number them among the Southern Mamutoi. The funeral was six days ago, and with this break in the weather we really should move on." Tulie was confidently analytical as she spoke. "Mog-ur needs to accept the Clan babies and assign them their totems and names as well."

Vincavec lowered his head in thought, if the deaths had been Mamutoi would he be as worried about what others thought? A naming festival and matrimonial, it would be a good diversion to the tragic deaths of the hunters.

"All right, let's do it." He said, a lump welling up in his chest at the very thought of formally mating Matera. His beautiful woman, and her daughter, the first daughter of his hearth. His eyes started to tear up and he quickly blinked away the wetness.

**********

The large central fire was stoked up exceptionally high and two other fire pits set up on each side of it for the celebration. The late morning sun was slightly dulled by fluffy, deep blue billowy snow clouds that had slowly blown in over them during the night. The heavy clouds seemed to insulate the camp from the harsh cold air, and it did indeed feel warmer today than it had been for the last couple of days without the constant cold wind of the day before.

A rhythmic drumming of hands slapping thighs brought out a feeling of excitement as the camp members all gathered and found good seats facing the trio of fires out in front of the line of mixed hunters. It didn't take long for the crowd to quiet.

Mog-ur and Talut came out of the northern tent together, Tornec followed them with the speaking staff of the Lion Camp. They positioned themselves in front of the central fire. Tornec slammed the staff on the ground three times, and silence followed with all attention tuned to the front. The drumming stopped as Mog-ur took a step forward and began to sign. Tornec translated.

'We stand here before Ursus and Mut in a celebration of life.' Mog-ur signed with all the subtle nuances of the experienced public speaker that he was. 'I call on the most ancient protective spirits of the Clan to watch over and protect us...'

**********

'...this boy is named "Bork".'

Inca held the boy high above her head, the baby screaming as the cold air enveloped his nude body. He had never before known the sensation of being cold.

'The mighty lynx has claimed this boy as his own. Totem of the lynx, watch over and protect this young hunter of the Clan.' Mog-ur nicked the baby at the base of his neck with a pointed awl made in the Clan style and the boy screamed anew.

"Troog", please join us.' Mog-ur waited until Troog walked over to stand beside him, then went on. "Troog" take "Inca" to be your mate, establish a hearth and prosper under the watchful eye of Ursus.'

Troog took Inca by the arm and led her over to an unoccupied log to between the northern and central fires, they sat down together. Inca had a very satisfied, but surprised look on her face as she put Bork under her tunic and to the breast. The baby quieted.

"Ova", present your child to this gathering...' Mog-ur signed, continuing.

**********

Ova's daughter was named Ina, and given the jay as her protective totem, she was given to Draag as mate and they both looked pleased as they joined Troog and Inca on the log.

Etra's son was named Cruug, and given the totem of the mighty great toothed tiger. This caused a collective gasp from the Clan and the Others alike, especially from Brug. Etra was then given to Rug as mate.

The first feelings of trepidation were quickly replaced with a deep sense of pride as he realized that Mog-ur was naming the boy after his mentor Crag. Then Mog-ur assigned Brug to assist Rug in the training of the young hunter to be. Rug looked at Brug and nodded his approval, and Brug glowed with the obvious honor being done him. Brug decided that he liked this boy already.

This hunter will be as strong and smart as Crag, Brug thought with a tremendous feeling of pride, and with the tiger as his totem, Crag will never be forgotten. Brug took a deep breath as his shoulders began to shiver at the memory of his lost teacher, it took a moment, but the shivering finally subsided.

**********

The ceremony shifted gears with Talut and Tulie presiding, Mog-ur stayed beside them to lend the authority of the Clan as Talut had with his portion of the proceedings.

Vincavec and Matera were officially joined. Matera's daughter was named Lumie, and duly numbered amongst the Southern Mamutoi. Vincavec had tears streaming down his face at the name Matera gave her daughter choked him up. Their original romance had begun while the two of them trained under Lomie of the Wolf camp so very many years ago. Vincavec couldn't have been more pleased with this show of respect and love.

Next, Branag came forward to preside as Thorec and Regan were mated. Regan had given birth to a boy the day after Crag and Borg were killed, and she named him Werlen.

Rymar had to bite back the tears at the obvious variation of his late son's name. It was an honor he had not expected, but he felt the power of the moment, and it pleased him more than he could say that his son was not forgotten.

Nezzie brought up her new son, and Talut made no effort to hide his pride or pleasure as the son of his hearth was named and counted amongst the Southern Mamutoi. Manut, a fine name for a fine boy, he thought, pleasantly surprised at the name Nezzie had come up with. It honored Manuv, a respected member of the Lion Camp ever since its inception, and this pleased the entire Lion Camp.

Fralie and Frebec came to the front with her newborn only two days old. Frebec seemed a head taller than usual, and walked like a man who had everything. In his mind, he did.

Fralie named her baby girl Aylie, a tribute to Ayla that Frebec had helped her to come up with. Frebec glowed brighter than a pregnant woman, and basked in his intense happiness.

The surprise of the ceremony took place with Danug and Tressie coming forward to announce that they would like to be joined. Now, please. Though their budding romance hadn't gone completely unnoticed, their decision to mate immediately without an extended time of being formally promised was a shock to absolutely everyone.

Tessie and Tathan, Tressie's hearth parents, were eventually pleased when they finally got over their total surprise at their daughter's unexpected announcement. Of all people, neither of them had any clue as to the whole situation that had developed gradually between Tressie and Danug.

Nezzie bawled like a starving baby throughout the entire matrimonial, and Talut lost a tear or two himself. Little Rugie clutched onto Danug's leg throughout, beaming up at her older sibling with her bright, clear blue eyes.

Danug's face glowed red with emotion as he said his vows, and his own tears fell when Tressie recited hers back to him. It wasn't quite as bad as it had been when he asked her to mate with him, he thought, but it's pretty close.

Tressie was unusually emotional. Her happiness surrounded and enveloped her like the glow of a newly expecting mother, so very different from her usually more passive and slightly shy personality. She made for a truly beautiful bride, and felt a happiness inside such as she had never known before when she looked up at Danug. Her mate.

The approval of the camp was loud and boisterous. The ceremonies finally completed, it was almost time to eat.

**********

A group of leaders from all three camps of the Others and the camp of the Clan got together for a private discussion. Tornec joined them inside the long tent, translating. The meeting was rather short for a meeting of leaders, and immediate plans for their future were agreed upon easily, all things considered.

By joint decision, normal and usual customs and traditions were modified and the traveling tent of the Clan was to be set up to house the newlyweds in a communal setting. The normal seclusion time was cut to three days. With the current break in the weather, they all wanted to move on and take advantage of it.

**********

The haunch of heavily marbled mammoth meat sizzled over the high open flames, and with no real wind to speak of, the aroma hung over the camp like a delicious blanket of pure temptation. The feast would be ready soon, and what a feast it would be. Fresh seaweed and a few overripe cattails simmered in a hanging bag usually used for stew, with dried mushrooms, fresh pine nuts, and the last of the rather soft onions from storage. Crushed multi grain meal was cooked into small flat grain cakes, with dried, diced aurochs meat strips thrown in for additional flavoring. Everything was seasoned liberally with tangy sea salt.

**********

Brug and Mortan sat with Mog-ur, and Branag who held Brydag in his lap. The log they sat on was between the main fire and the southern fire. It was a cozy place to sit, warm and smoke free.

'If Ursus took "Crag", why did the tiger have to kill him?' Brug asked.

The rest of them watched Mog-ur as he scratched his beard and carefully contemplated his answer.

'When Ursus wants another hunter to join him in the spirit world, he uses a chosen beast of the earth to bring them directly to him. It has been the way of Ursus for as long as the Clan has memories.' Mog-ur signed slowly, and Mortan and Branag both understood what he said pretty well, with only a few gaps.

'I wish "Crag" still here.' Mortan signed. 'I miss.'

Brug nodded his agreement, then signed again. 'He was the best hunter I have ever known. He put himself in the tiger's path, "Crag" saved our lives.'

"Crag" was a true man of the Clan, he cared deeply for the both of you. That is why he fought the tiger alone and he died so that you could live. This is the Clan way, and it was "Crag's" way.' Mog-ur signed, looking at the two young hunters so full of sadness from their loss.

"Crag" say you two best hunters he train.' Branag added with one hand, Brydag had a strong grip on the fore finger and thumb of his other hand, pulling them down to try and bite on them. 'He proud of you, say to me many time. We all are. No fault, is way of world.'

Brug felt the lump in his throat, and when he looked at Mortan he saw the tears falling freely. Brug tried to remember back to the face of the original man of his hearth, but all he could see in his minds eye right now was the face of Crag. Instead of making him sadder, it filled him with pride.

**********

It was well before dark when the newly mated were exiled to the Clan tent to begin their seclusion. It had been prepared in advance with an abundance of sleeping furs and a more than generous supply of the choicest leftovers from the feast. The tent was big enough to house all of them comfortably, but there would be little privacy for the couples, there had been no time to erect any kind of partitions.

Danug and Tressie were the last to enter, amid good natured cat calls from Branag and Brenan. More men joined in, and soon the late afternoon was alive with sarcastic good cheer. Danug's red face absolutely glowed, but his smile was wide.

**********

Talut filled up one last platter of steaming mammoth meat amid a few cat calls directed at him. He answered them with a bright, wide smile that encouraged them on. Talut didn't care, the mammoth was tender, layered with succulent fat, and cooked to perfection. His appetite was not yet satisfied, but it would be soon.

Nezzie nursed little Manut with her tunic open and Talut gently caressed the back of his nearly bald head gently as he sat down beside them. Content with his life as much as he had ever been, Talut was one happy man.

**********

Brug and Mortan walked the outer edges of the camp, lighting the perimeter fires and stoking them up to build a strong bed of coals before darkness set in. A nice size pile of firewood was set up near each fire pit, and it didn't take too long to get the first two blazing high and hot.

As Mortan struck his firestone to draw a spark to light the last fire, a fat snowflake landed on his nose. He paused and gazed up a the sky, it was getting dark but the brilliant snowflakes were easily visible as they swirled and danced on their way toward him.

Brug felt the falling snow before he looked up as he dropped a load of sticks to the ground at the edge of the fire pit. The sky was completely alive with snow, fat lazy flakes in no apparent hurry to get to the ground.

Mortan went back to work, and soon had a small flame going that he and Brug fed slowly until it grew into a real fire. Both of them added sticks until the fire grew bright and strong. They sat back, gazing up at the incredible beauty as the light of the flickering flames accented the graceful descent of the fat snowflakes.

They sat and watched the snow fall for a little while in the peaceful serenity of the night. After a little while they got up, then pulled a nice size stick each from the fire and used the light of the small flames to walk back to the camp. They left slight footprints in the light snow cover as they walked side by side.

**********

Six days later, while still pretty early in the morning, they moved on. They had gotten everything but the tents and the sleeping furs packed up the day before, and all they had left to do was pack up the tents and finish loading the sledges. Food stocks were getting low except for meat and grain, but this time of year vegetables and fresh greens were scarce anyway.

The sun was partially obscured with scattered, puffy clouds, and the air was brisk and cold. Snow was ankle deep for the most part, with graceful drifts that reached up to mid calf. The sun glistened off the pure whiteness, casting bright sparkles of beauty.

Brenan and Ludeg led the way back toward the seashore, and the men pushing the heavy sledges followed closely behind them and helped to clear the ground nicely for all those who walked behind them. The heavy sledges slid easily over the snow slick ground.

Walking a little way up from the bank of the small creek in the clearing, animal tracks were in abundance. The ankle deep snow made for slick walking, especially for those pushing the sledges. A second man was added to each sledge to make it easier, it worked well for the most part though when one man slipped the other usually got bumped and slipped too.

The snow thinned slowly but steadily as they got closer and closer to the sea, and a little before the sand began, it faded away almost completely. Ludeg turned and led them back into the snow spattered short grass on to the southeast. Then he turned again more parallel to the shoreline, so the snow could again ease the burden of those pushing the sledges.

Rug and Tornec made up the rear guard, following Wymez, Rymar and the women that didn't seem capable of walking without carrying on a running conversation, either with spoken words or signs. At the last change in direction, Rug stopped and looked back at the long line of footprints in the light snow.

It warmed up a little as the day wore on, and they made good progress. By late afternoon, the shoreline had begun to turn slowly and gradually. It now led them due south.

**********

Thirteen days later, they camped on a low, grass covered rise overlooking the sea for the night. Firewood was easy to gather here and readily available from scattered trees along the banks of the small creek just south of the rise. The only snow left to be seen was in small patches of shade and in the bottoms of erosion ditches.

The sun was brighter today than it had been for the last several days, and though it was not what anyone would call warm, the chill in the air was noticeably less severe. A loose formation of fluffy, dark clouds hung low in the sky, with a higher layer of thin, wispy clouds above them. What little wind there was came from the northeast.

The last few days they had found that the sea air was a little warmer than it was further inland. The gently rolling terrain was now dotted with jagged rocks jutting out from the ground. These obstacles along with a spattering of erosion ditches forced them back away from the taller grass, it was much easier traveling closer to the edge of where the shorter grass quit growing and the light tan colored sand began. This was about sixty or seventy paces up from the waters edge. Even the beaches here had these odd rocks that looked to have grown up out of the sand with no rhyme or reason. It was strange country, and no one felt completely comfortable with the intensely foreign countryside.

Every morning, Brug and Mortan scavenged along the sandy beaches at first light. Branag usually tagged along to keep an eye on them, and to help carry back their daily catch. They brought in a steady supply of crabs, mollusks, and even a few oysters. Sometimes, fresh seaweed washed ashore, and they gathered it as well. It all made for an interesting variety of breakfast stews, and the women got creative with the few things they had left from the storage containers.

Ludeg sensed the uneasiness of the group, and had suggested they camp at this more familiar looking area near the creek when they came across it. Though still a little early in the day to be stopping for the night, there was no real arguments made.

"We must be getting closer, that or this winter is just being exceptionally mild so far." Talut said, looking over at Wymez who sat nearby with Ralev sitting in his lap. Ralev was busy putting an edge on a long spear point carved from bone with a heavy sliver of flint. Talut sipped a cup of tea.

"The winter cold does not hit as hard this far south, that is true." Wymez said. "Soon we will come to a long line of mountains that will keep us pinned close to the seashore. We will follow it for almost a full moon cycle. When we get past this low mountain range, another full moon or so will see us there."

"Does that mean we will never see the colds of winter again?" Ralev asked, looking up at Wymez with his light blue eyes sparkling, they were always so full of expression. These days the boy was a constant question, just waiting to be asked.

"The Land of the Sun has no real winter season, this is true. It is a vast, huge land that has is own distinct seasons. They differ from place to place, just like the lands of the Mamutoi. It gets colder to the north there, too." Wymez answered, giving him a little one armed hug.

Ralev beamed up at him, then went back to scraping the flint over the long, tapered point. Thin slivers and small pieces of stark white bone littered wymez' lap, and Ralev's leggings. Wymez couldn't help but to smile, remembering a time when Ranec did the same thing.

Talut took another sip of tea, considering the strangeness of a land, any land without winter. It was a really odd concept, and with all they had been through to get this far, it was something that he had not really taken the time to think about.

"What kind of shelters do the people there build to live in?" Talut found himself suddenly as curious as Ralev always seemed to be these days.

"Mostly light shelters made of wood and tied together with lashings, in some places there is a wonderful, lightweight hollow wood that is very strong. The shelters really only have to keep out the rain, and predators of course." Wymez grinned, remembering some of the odd predators he had come across earlier in his life when he had been to these lands before. "That and snakes."

Talut cringed, Nezzie would just love hearing about snakes, he thought. "How do you make a wood dwelling like that with a roof that will keep out the rain?"

Wymez grinned, a lot of what he could tell Talut would be hard for him to believe. "There are many wide leafed plants and trees with heavy, flat leaves that we will use to make thatch roofs. They work well, but have to be replaced or fortified every so often depending on the severity of the stormy season."

Stormy seasons, no winters, so many new things to learn about, Talut thought to himself, so many new animals to hunt, and to eat...

**********

Around noon the next day, Ludeg spotted the smoke of a campfire in the distance. It came from straight away in front of them, right in their path. Ludeg turned around and backed them up behind a low rise, and called a halt to rest. He went to the leaders and they gathered to discuss the problem and their options to deal with it.

"I don't think we can risk not finding out who it is, there is nowhere to hide out in this open country." Tulie said, looking around the immediate terrain. They were on the edge of a wide, grass covered valley that ran all the way to the sea. Scattered trees and leafless brush was just about all that there was to be seen nearby. The only cover available at all was up into the valley a good way where a few short, gnarly looking leafless trees stood, probably near a creek or erosion run off. It was hard to tell from this far away.

"Tulie has a good point." Talut added. "This would be a bad place to make any kind of stand if they are hostile. It would be very hard to protect our women and children here."

"After our last meeting with strangers, I'd rather see if we can get on around them without their even noticing us." Branag added to several grunts and words of agreement from some of the others around the tight circle.

It took a little bit for the excited murmur to subside, but as soon as it died down Talut spoke up.

"We need to scout them out without being seen. In this country, the only way to do that will be under the cover of darkness." Talut held his hands up, palms facing the sky as he went on. "It will take our quickest, and quietest hunters to pull this off."

It got quiet as they all considered Talut's words. Rug started to sign, then hesitated for a moment to rethink his idea. It seemed sound, and he looked right at Talut when he began.

"Troog" and I have hunted together for a long time, we have snuck up close to many different kinds of animals unseen and unheard.' Rug paused, looking over this congregation of leaders, seeing nothing but respect and interest in their eyes as they watched his every move. Encouraged, he went on. 'We can get close before the sun goes down, then get a good look at them when it gets dark. We can be back here before dawn.'

"Rug, are you sure you don't want to take more hunters? If you are spotted, and they are hostile, you will be very vulnerable." Tulie said, having been on a covert mission with these men of the Clan before, and knowing first hand of their incredible stalking prowess.

Rug waited until Tornec finished his translation, then looked Tulie straight in the eyes and nodded. 'This we can do, more men will only make us easier to be seen. We will not fail.'

Tulie knew that Rug meant what he said. These people were serious, dedicated hunters with skills that were unmatched in stalking game. She looked up at Talut with Vincavec standing beside him and nodded. They both thought about it for a moment, then nodded back at her. The approval of the rest of them was unanimous.

**********

Rug and Troog paired down their usual compliment of traveling supplies to the bare minimums, while carrying a full complement of spears. Their belt pouches bulged with dried meat, fresh water, and their other normal supplies. Neither carried a back pack.

Draag and Branag helped to stuff dried grass in every opening of their tunics to help soften their profiles against the flat terrain that they had to stay concealed within. Brug and Mortan helped camouflage their leggings and foot covers in much the same way.

Long before dark, they took off. Heading inland for a little way, they cut back to the south along a loose line of tufted, wide leafed brown grass. They moved slowly and smoothly, and disappeared from sight long before they should have from the vantage point of the camp. The grass camouflage softened the shapes of their bodies well.

Rug navigated by the puffs of smoke from the fire, adjusting his direction as needed and as the taller grass allowed. At times, they resorted to crab walking on all fours in the shorter grass between the stands of the tall stuff. It was slow going, and very tiring, both mentally and physically. The two men were disciplined hunters though, and didn't stop to rest until the smoke was considerably closer.

At the top of the swell of the gently rolling hill, Rug spotted the camp. They had crawled the last few body lengths up the side of the low berm, and peered through the calf high, sparse grass that grew sporadically in the sandy soil.

Rug was perturbed at what he saw out in front of him. The camp was too far away to see in any meaningful detail, and the land sloped gently down to the camp with little or no cover between them. All that was really visible from here was shapes, but at least three of the shapes looked to be conically shaped tents, and maybe another or two behind the fire. The heat waves coming off the flames made it hard to tell for sure. Troog saw all this as well, and clenched his jaw in concentration as he considered the best way across. They would definitely need to wait until dark before going any further.

Troog pulled two strips of dried meat from a pouch on his wide belt, and untied a small water bag from the other side and offered the water to Rug. Rug took it and took a long, satisfying drink before handing it back and taking the strip of meat. Troog drank from the bag, then tied it off and set it on the ground between them, then shifted his body slowly until he found a more comfortable position.

They settled in to wait, the sun was not yet touching the far western horizon.

**********

There was a lot of activity around the campfire in the distance as the darkness fell, but it was still too hard to get any kind of count as to how many of them there were. The shapes of people moving around and those lounging at the fire gave them no idea as to who they were, too much detail was lost at this distance.

'We wait until they start going into the tents before we go.' Rug signed, and Troog nodded his agreement.

**********

There were only two people still visible at the fire when Rug and Troog moved out. They stayed crouched over, and walked quickly and quietly toward the glow of the fire. The dry, dead grass made if hard to disguise their footfalls, and every crunch sounded like a trumpeting mammoth to the both of them. The light breeze came off the sea to the southeast, and Rug hoped it would be enough to hide the soft noises their soft footsteps made.

A hundred paces or so from the fire, they stopped to watch and observe. Both of them lay down in the short grass and lifted their heads up only high enough to see over the ankle tall grass. From where they were, neither man was able to get a good look at the two people across from each other at the fire. All they could see was that one of the two had really dark, straight hair. They watched and waited, it taxed their patience as much here and now as it did when they waited for the proper time to act in a hunt.

Though it wasn't really all that long, it seemed like forever to the both of them before a woman with a snow leopard sleeping fur wrapped around her came out of the tent to make a small basket of tea. When she knelt at the fire to pull out some cooking stones, her face was clear and easy to see.

She was an Eastern Savage, no doubt about it.

**********

With a hand gesture, Rug motioned for them to back off. They moved slowly and as quietly as they could in the darkness straight away from the fire, on their hands and knees. Rug glanced back over his shoulder often. When they had a decent distance put between them and the camp, they stopped, facing each other kneeling in the grass.

'There was only one fire,' Rug began signing. Troog had to look directly at Rug's hands to make out his signs in the darkness. 'There shouldn't be too many of them.'

Troog nodded, then gave Rug a questioning look.

'We go back. Quickly.'

The two men worked their way slowly away from the camp, looking back behind them from time to time. If they had been seen, there was no indication of it from the camp. The night was dark, with a little cloud cover subduing what little light that emanated from the small sliver of the mostly obstructed moon. A hare jumped up and took off from the grass just in front of them, the sudden rustling making them both jump. It felt like it took a long, long time to get back to the others, though they never slowed or even stopped to rest.

**********

Ludeg, Draag, and Druwez were on guard duty at the southern perimeter in the dark, and Druwez brought the two Clan men on into the dark camp. Talut and Vincavec sat between the two tents at a very small fire, and this is where Rug and Troog found them when they arrived. It was getting near dawn, but the light of the coming day had yet to make itself known.

Before the two tired men had even gotten comfortable situated at the fire, Tulie, Wymez, Tornec, and Rymar all came out of the smaller tent and joined them. It didn't take long for Rug to fill them in on what all they had seen with Tornec translating his signs for the Others. The discussion was still in progress when the dawning slowly began, meadow larks, swallows, and sparrows singing in the new day from the grassy fields all around.

**********

Draag watched the eighteen men trotting away in a loose group. The camp was some three hundred odd paces behind him. Draag would make a stand here with the rest of the older men as a final barrier against the savages as a last line of defense should it come to that. It bothered him that he was not going with them, it bothered him a lot. He knew though, that he would have slow them down if he gone. His leg was as healed as it would ever be, but he found he could no longer run for long distances like he once could. Draag didn't know if it was simply a case of lack of stamina due to having had to favor the broken leg so much and for so long, or if at his age he was just no longer capable. Either thought was distressing, but he tried to put it out of his mind for the task at hand.

Rug had given him the responsibility of holding this ground in the event of any encroachment by the savages. He had done it in such a way that Draag had no reason to be insulted or belittled in any way, but he had been left behind. It was a tough thing, to stay and watch the rest of them, all the men in their prime going off to defend the camp without him. This realization was humbling.

Rymar nudged Draag with the butt of his spear, and gave him a look that asked what he should do. Draag came out of his melancholy and looked around at the ground all around them. They were in a place where the wide leafed grass grew tall in random places all around them, and the rest of the ground was covered with ankle deep grass. Draag took a deep breath and tried to make a mental count of the men and women that surrounded him, waiting for his instructions. The numbers were too great for him to grasp, but he pointed out to a few stands of tall grass and motioned for them to disperse and hide. There were nine of them if you counted Brug and Mortan, and Draag was sure the talented boys would perform adequately if needed.

**********

Talut and Rug led the band through the short, brown grass, the early morning sun casting long grey shadows from their bodies as they moved along. They kept up a steady pace, jogging along the mostly smooth ground in a pretty tight group. The smoke from the fire loomed directly ahead of them, and slowly grew closer. And closer. The very tops of three tents were just coming into sight, but so far they had not been able to pick out the shapes of any people—yet.

They hadn't gone too much farther when Rug reached over and tapped Talut on the side of his arm, pointing past the camp to the south with the point of his spear. A line of six or seven people trotted along in a line to the southwest, well armed with the short, lightweight, long tipped spears commonly used by the Eastern Savages. It didn't take long before one of them spotted the encroaching mixed band of Clan and Others and their line slowed and broke into a small mass of confusion. They spun around and ran back toward their camp at full speed.

"Here we go!" Talut hollered out loudly. "Break off!"

The large group broke into three tight groups, Talut staying on course and the other two spreading out on each side of him. Each group consisted of six men, Danug led the group on Talut's right, Branag to his left. They all raised spears up with both hands where they could easily be seen. It was still several hundred paces to the camp.

The camp broke into a panic as they others arrived, screaming and running in a panic. There were suddenly people scampering about everywhere, tents emptied and people seemed to grow out of the ground itself, or so it seemed from the distance. Several of them formed up out in front of the camp with weapons brandished, but it was a disorganized effort and there were only six of them. With the erratic movements from the camp, it was impossible to tell how many of them there were.

A group of five more savages broke from the camp from a couple of different directions, coming out at a quick pace, stopping to join the other six facing already the encroaching men. The camp was in total turmoil now, and a small group of women broke off and started northeast away from the coming bands at a fast run. Many carried small, screaming children.

Another scattered group, some men and what appeared to be a few older children among them this time, took off following the women. A few more men came up to join those at the northern edge of the camp. The loose formation now numbered eleven, and a few more men appeared from behind the tents and made their way up to add to their numbers.

The others were getting closer.

"Now!" Talut cried out.

The men following the three lead runners all broke off and reformed into an even wider spread formation, creating a Vee shaped phalanx. They continued forward as the formation filled out and the lines straightened, causing them to look like even more than the eighteen men that they really were.

The groups at the edge of the camp faltered as three men backed off, two more followed them and they started away slowly at first, then gathering speed as their fear heightened.

Talut picked up the pace a little more, and the formation widened out even a little bit more, it was a terrible sight to behold. Spears held high, they all started hollering and screaming out as they ran on, eating the ground between them and the camp faster, and faster.

The remaining men left at the camp faltered more and more as the hopelessness of the situation before them became more obvious. The defenders started backing away a few steps at a time, then broke down completely as they all began to scatter in fear induced panic. Their lines finally collapsed and they turned and fled, running away to the northeast after the rest of their companions.

Talut's crew just kept on coming, making noise and spears on high.

By the time they reached the abandon camp, it was totally abandon, completely devoid of people altogether.

Talut called for a quick search which produced no human results, then posted guards all around the camp while he and a few others looked around. Though the guards spread out all around the camp, the majority formed up to the north, watching the direction where the savages had gone. Just in case.

There were a total of seven of the small conically shaped tents, full of sleeping furs and baskets of food stuffs and other supplies. Weapons were found all over the camp, many incomplete and in the various processes of being fabricated. Slabs of bone had the long, tapered spear points etched into them in various stages of being cut free.

Talut walked around the camp, thinking. There had to be a way to prevent the savages from coming after us, he thought to himself. What to do, he wondered, wishing Tulie was here to discuss with him.

"Talut, you need to see this." Branag called out from the edge of the fire. He was stooped down and examining something in a wide, still steaming platter on the ground.

Talut and Brenan walked over, Rug and Tornec came out of the nearest tent to join them. Vincavec and Salen were suddenly there as well as a few others. They all stood around Branag as he picked up a piece of cooked meat from a bed of deep green seaweed, and stood up as he held it out to them with a face that was white as snow.

There was a collective gasp from all of them, and Brenan blanched and turned away and threw up suddenly and violently into the dirt. Talut's face paled, and Vincavec looked down at his feet quickly with tears in his eyes.

It was a browned and fully cooked human forearm.

**********

Draag worried when he spotted three men returning from the south. The other men and women on guard duty around him broke from their hidden positions and stood around in wonder. Of all the things they expected to see, three lone men were not amongst them.

It appeared to Draag that it was Salen, Thorec, and Rug. Rug led them at a fast jog. Draag took a deep breath to settle his nerves, keeping his eyes on the returning men. Brug and Mortan suddenly took off to go out and meet them, and Draag scowled at the two boys impatience.

He quickly motioned for the rest of them to stay, and trotted out following the boys. It took a while for him to catch up to the boys, then together they ran on. It was a good little jog to finally get out to reach them, they were a long way out. Draag's leg throbbed and was starting to go a little numb just below the knee by the time they met up, he was breathing hard.

'Get the entire camp ready to go, we are moving out. Now.' Rug signed, and the four men and the two boys turned on their heels and took off again, back toward the others and the camp beyond.

The sun was now high in the sky, and though the air was still cold, all of them were sweating heavily by the time they reached the outer guard position. They picked up the rest of the crew, and returned to camp quickly.

It didn't take too long to get packed up and moving. They put two men to a sledge and moved out at as quick a pace as those pushing the sledges could keep up. They traveled steadily throughout the afternoon, stopping only once to rest and to get a quick bite to eat. The infants were simply given a breast when the cried, and the group stayed the course without complaint.

As the sun went down, they still continued on. Rug insisted that they not stop, but slowed the pace enough for the older camp members to keep up without falling behind. Several of the younger children were too tired to go on, and they were piled into the already bulging sledges. This slowed the rate of speed that the sledges could be pushed, but they persisted on with their strenuous efforts. They stopped once for some traveling food and a brief rest, then continued on south through the darkness.

**********

"All right, here's what we need to do." Talut began, addressing all those not on guard duty tot he northern side of the camp. There were nine men spread out in front of him in the flickering light of the freshly stoked fire.

"Vincavec, gather all the food stores up and set aside just the dried meat. Throw the rest into the fire, I don't think we should trust the way these people cure their foods judging from their choices of meat. The dried meat will be enough to sustain them.

"Branag, take down the tents. Use the tent support poles to put together another two sledges.

"Brenan, gather up all the weapons that are finished, or very nearly so—burn the rest.

"Take all the furs you see, we'll pile them onto the new sledges. Let's get busy, we need to be ready to go when the others get here."

Vincavec cocked his head, thinking about Talut's obvious plan. Force the savages to have to hunt right away to replace the food and shelter that they have lost, simply keep them too busy to come after us. It's a good plan, he thought, this might work if we can get away quick enough. Vincavec smiled as Talut helped Branag tear down the first tent with a mighty yank on the sewed together, dark brown horse skins at ground level. If this works, his thoughts continued, maybe there will be no bloodshed this time. He hoped this with all his heart, Vincavec wasn't sure if he could kill another human, no matter what the reason or circumstance.

**********

The sight of the fire in the distance gave the heavily burdened travelers a much needed boost of energy. Weary beyond measure from the long, hurried trek, they stumbled on with fresh resolve. The fire dimmed slightly, then flared up even brighter a moment later than before as fresh fuel caught and burned brightly. They trudged on.

**********

The first signs of dawn glowed to the left of the long, broken line. Nezzie hung back with Rymar and Draag and a few of the older people that were worn out and slowing substantially. She carried Manut in the crook of one arm firmly attached to her breast, and little Ooga in the other. The Clan child was heavy, but Nezzie was one strong, determined woman and went about the task without complaint.

The remains of what was left of the camp loomed before them, and a handful of men rushed out to meet them and help them on the rest of the way in. As the sun was split in half by the horizon, the last weary traveler dropped to the ground at the warm fire in the cool air of the morning.

The place was a real mess. Piles of furs over here, tent skins thrown over there, and a large pile of things to go into the fire near the fire pit. The two new sledges were almost complete, and men worked on them from all angles to finish them off.

**********

Danug yawned, he stood just beyond the guards to the eastern edge of the camp, watching the single thread of smoke that appeared occasionally in the distance. Nothing else even remotely human looking was visible from here, but he kept a vigilant watch anyway, it just wouldn't do for them to be surprised. Brenan and Ludeg stood with him gazing across the wide grassy plains. The other guards dozed, curled up in the grass, spears beside them in easy reach.

A single rhinoceros grazed off to the southeast. She was far enough away to present no impeding threat, but close enough to warrant a watchful eye. Birds all around whistled in the morning, and a pair of vultures floated easily on the thermals high in the sky. A white headed hawk or eagle sat atop a single short, leafless tree to the northeast, wings spread out wide to gather in the warmth of the morning sun. Far away to the north, the roar of a tiger rang out, announcing a successful early morning kill. Wispy white clouds floated high in the light blue sky, with a few heavy, fluffier clouds some distance below them traveling slowly on the northeasterly breeze. Tall grasses swayed in the light, occasionally gusty winds across the light brown meadow.

**********

"Build it up really high, and bank it to stay that way for as long as you can." Talut said. He watched Brenan and Danug pulling large, rolled bundles of cut fresh cut brown grass up to the edge of the fire pit. "I want them to think we are still here for as long as possible. It will give us a good head start if there are more of them around and they try to follow us—or worse."

The fire gave off a multitude of strange scents, and was very smoky even when the flames were clear and high. The assortment of baskets full of foods and other odd supplies that burned and smoldered in the massive coal bed continued to effect the smells something awful. There was a clear path devoid of people to the southwest of the fire where the smells were the strongest on the cold, gusting breezes.

The rolls of grass were wrapped around the last tent poles that were not used in the manufacture of the two new sledges. The grass was tied tightly over the poles with thick, heavy leather straps. The sledges, new and old were all lined up at the southern side of the ravaged campsite, loaded up and ready to go.

People were bunched together sleeping in small groups all over the southern side of the camp. Branag and Ludeg stood watch at the northern edge, watching the distant wisps of smoke and keeping a wary eye out for any insurgents. Half a dozen men, along with Brug and Mortan dozed behind them in the soft, crackling grass.

Mog-ur watched the sun falling slowly in the sky, not too much longer now, he thought. The plan was to leave out as soon as darkness covered their movements. If all went well and the fire was banked correctly, they would have a full nights head start on the savages. It was a very clever plan, he thought, banking the fire to burn high and bright through the night had been his idea at the planning meeting. He was satisfied with the plan, and hoped everything would work as well as it should.

He was tired, the forced march through the night had taken a lot out of him physically. Mog-ur had gotten some rest and a brief nap during the afternoon, but had woken up with a growling belly and had not been able to get any more sleep after he had eaten. He wondered if he and the other older camp members were somehow being tested by mighty Ursus. Mog-ur was determined that he would not be the reason for any kind of slower pace once they struck out again. He was probably in the best shape he had been in since he was speared so long ago, and had every intention of proving it.

**********

"See anything unusual?" Talut asked as he approached Branag and Ludeg.

"Unusual, on this journey?" Ludeg answered with a soft, tired laugh.

Branag chuckled, and reached up to rub his tired eyes. "No, nothing's changed."

Talut scanned to the northeast, catching a glimpse of smoke as it dissipated quickly in the breeze that was beginning to pick up slightly. He looked back to the west, the sun was almost touching the far horizon.

"Better wake your men soon, it won't be long now." He said, nodding at the setting sun.

Branag nodded, then visually swept the lands to the north again.

**********

The vacating of the camp of the Eastern Savages took place just as the light began to finally fade. It was a somber group, and quietly determined. Guards walked outside the long line of people in pairs, as well as three more following some thirty steps behind the end of the line.

Ludeg used the lone rhinoceros in the distance to the south as a marker, and headed the long line straight at her. Long before they got very close to where the rhino was grazing, she caught their scent on the wind and moved on to the east. The sun began to set as she walked on at her own leisurely pace, grazing as she went.

The wind picked up a little more as the full darkness set in, colder and gusting. The cloud cover diminished slightly as the high winds carried them on away further to the southwest. The moon was a bright crescent that supplied enough light to assist the travelers.

The pace Ludeg set for them was brisk, but not fast enough to unduly tax the older members or those pushing the heavily loaded sledges. They went due south.

**********

With only one short break for a quick bite to eat during the night, the dawn was a most welcome sight. The ground had gotten a little rockier and walking had become more and more difficult in the darkness. The slightly uneven terrain had slowed the pace a little, and a few of those pushing the sledges had taken a spill or two.

As the sun came up, the walking got much easier and they picked up the pace again accordingly. Near them just off to the west, the ground dropped off slightly, they were now walking along the edge of a gentle plateau. The slope was rocky and long, and the sand beaches started as soon as the ground leveled back off. The sea was easy to see now from here, and was full of short, white capped waves. The salty air tasted good, and fresh.

**********

Ludeg spotted it late in the afternoon. It appeared to be the remnants of a wrecked camp just past the bottom of the slope off the edge of the plateau. Talut called for a rest stop to check it out. The break was a welcome event, and many people curled up for a quick nap after a cold snack of dried meat. Thus far, there had been no sign of anyone following them, but Talut posted a rear guard anyway.

Talut slid between a row of rocks as he tried to descend the slope gracefully. He caught his footing, and stepped over the rock ridge and continued on down. Brenan, Branag, and Danug followed him, watching his every step. It didn't take too long to reach level ground, the slope was long and gentle and not too hard to traverse.

What they found was disturbing. It had been a camp, and not very long ago. The twisted remains of a tent hide was ragged and full of tears and holes. The fire pit was cold, but a small pile of driftwood was stacked nearby. The ground was stained with several areas of dark sand, a deep, dark brown that was probably where blood had been spilled and absorbed.

A tattered fishing net was underneath the partially sand covered tent hide, along with a strangely made lynx skin back pack. Three broken spears were gathered up, two of them were short spears with long, tapered bone points. The other had a shiny black stone point, knapped extremely well and sharp. This spear shaft was adorned with odd shapes, heavily stylized caricatures of animals carved shallowly into it, and artificially colored a deep shade of red.

The back pack was heavy, and half full of more of this shiny, wet feeling black rock in the raw. Brenan rummaged through the pack briefly, then slung it over his shoulder and kept it with him. He picked up the broken spear with the black stone point and slipped it into his scabbard of spears over his back.

Wolf tracks were all over, but they were hard to discern at first in the soft, wind blown sand. At the eastern edge of the camp, Brenan made a pleasant discovery. A small natural spring puddled from between two grey rocks on the slope into a pool no bigger than a small fire pit, it had been ringed with rock to hold the fresh water captive. The ground around the shallow rock enclosure was damp where the water disappeared back into the sandy earth. The wolf tracks were more easily identified here as the damp sand held the shapes of their paw prints much more distinctly.

Outside the camp to the south they found some tattered leather scraps that may very well have been bits of clothing. They were in the middle of three more patches of darkened sand. There were also drag marks where the wolves may have taken their scavenged meals away to feast.

The overall size of the camp was small, there couldn't have been very many people here. However many there had been, they were definitely all gone now.

"Well, I can only guess that our friendly savages are responsible for this little massacre." Talut observed.

"And the wolves must have finished off what they didn't take." Danug added.

"This was a huge wolf pack, we had best be careful." Brenan joined in. "I remember what happens when predators develop a taste for human flesh, it isn't pretty."

Talut chuckled. "Brenan, these aren't lion tracks."

Brenan's face reddened, he looked up at Talut and answered. "Lions aren't the only predators known to eat us."

Talut remembered back to a wolf pack that had attacked them under the cover of darkness shortly after the grass fire that had almost enveloped them earlier on their journey.

"You're right, but I don't want to camp anywhere near here tonight. Let's fill up our water bags and get back up to the rest and move on."

They were quiet as they climbed back up the rocky rise, each of them lost in their own thoughts over what they had seen.

A small group went back down to fill up all the water bags at the spring while Talut and the other three men got a bite to eat. Brenan packed the heavy back pack of black rocks into one of the sledges for later. There was no time to show it all to Wymez and Branag now, it would just have to wait.

**********

They walked on through the sunset and well into the night. It got considerably colder after the sun went down.

Wolves howled in the darkness from all around them at varying distances away. A few were close, really close and it made them all a little uneasy.

The plateau dropped off gradually until the sands of the beach were only a dozen steps down a short rock ridge. Talut finally called a halt to the days travel, and they set up one of the three traveling tents. With all the guards that would be on duty, it would be crowded inside, but the large tent would be enough. It was a struggle to set it up as dark as it was, but they managed, having a lot of extra helping hands in the process.

Six perimeter fires were set up, and dried dung and dead grass was about all they could find in the dark to fuel them with. All the guards were paired up, and a second shift would relieve them some time later in the night. It took twelve men to man the first shift, Talut was adamant that the camp was to be securely watched.

The wolf songs continued throughout the long night, helping the guards stay awake and alert, but not seriously impeding the sleep of the weary travelers. Talut's snoring was so loud that he could be heard from well outside the tent.

The surrounding grasslands made it hard to identify any specific movements in the dark. Tall sprigs of heavy, flat bladed grass waved erratically in the softly gusting winds. The uneven appearance of the grasses of varying heights made for odd shadows from the light of the fires. It made it easy to imagine all sorts of animals encroaching the perimeter fires.

The wolf songs seemed to shift constantly, closer, then farther away. Rustling sounds in the grass were impossible to distinguish between the winds or possible animals. It made for a long, nervous watch, but it kept them all very alert.

Just after the change of the guard, the deep pitched roar of a cave lion echoed in from far away, somewhere off to the east. The distant roar stilled the wolves constant howling for a while, but not for very long. The rest of the watch passed without incident.

**********

Talut and Brenan studied the sky to the north as the sun came up slowly. They watched silently as the sky lightened into soft pastel colors, beautifully bringing in the new day. There was no sign of smoke, none at all, not anywhere. Talut breathed a little easier.

"What do you think, are they coming after us?" He asked.

"It doesn't look like it, but I'll feel better when we have a few more days between us." Brenan's voice was soft, as if he were unwilling to spoil the stunning sunrise.

"I agree, but I can't keep pushing these people so hard. They're all tired and getting weak from lack of good food and rest." Talut said, then went on, smiling. "I am too."

"You're right, but we can't slow down too much and risk getting surprised. Remember how big that last camp of savages was? Whose to say they weren't just a scouting party of a bigger camp?"

Talut's face got serious, Brenan's point was well made. "We'll keep going, but we can't keep up this pace for much longer. We'll have to slow down soon."


	25. Chapter 19 Part 2

**Chapter Nineteen**

_Footprints in the Snow_

**Part Two**

It was a weary group that moved on at first light. Not taking the time to cook up a hot meal, they had to satisfy themselves on dried meat—yet again.

Ludeg led them due south, and by late morning the low plateau had played out completely, bordered by a wide swath of light grey gravel. Past this, the sand began to ripple and become more densely packed. Small dunes formed, growing slightly taller as they traversed them, one after the other for as far as they could see.

As the sand dunes became a burden to cross, they veered back toward the seashore. Ludeg kept them on the edges of the dunes, where they formed, and walking was a little easier. The sledges were a real burden to push through the sand, even though it was hard packed. The sand was a constant drag.

The sand also figured prominently in the failure of the first sledge runner, Talut and Brenan were pushing it at the time the left one snapped in two. When they stopped to examine the broken runner, they were both surprised that other one was heavily worn as well. The abrasive sand had worn the runners into thin, brittle sticks half the size that they started out as. It was absolutely amazing that they had worn out so quickly, two of the sledges were rather new, but their runners were in bad shape too.

Talut called for a rest stop to repair the sledge, and to check out the runners on the other four. Though the one he and Brenan had been pushing was in the worst shape, but all of them showed definite signs of wear. With no trees in sight any where near them, this was a true dilemma.

"We have to locate some decent sized poles to replace these with." Talut said to the men gathered around the broken sledge. "Ludeg, you and Brenan climb up to the top of the highest dune and scout out the area. Rug, you and Branag go with them."

These men gathered up a few tools, and took off for the tallest dune which was off to the southeast a little way. They carried full scabbards of spears.

"The rest of you all help me get these unloaded, they will be too hard to work on full." Talut continued.

A flurry of activity began around all five sledges.

**********

"Will you look at that." Brenan said reverently, looking to the southeast. "I think we've found Wymez' mountains that push out to the sea.

It was true, the tops of what appeared to be a long mountain range pushed out of the rather flat, grassy plain a few days walk away. From the light blue and scattered white coloring of the highest peaks, they looked tall.

Back out to the southeast, there were no real trees to speak of. A few growths of heavy bushes dotted the tan grass in dark spots, and an occasional scrub tree was seen standing alone.

"Thin pickings, anyone have any ideas?" Branag asked, looking out over the vast grasslands.

"We can split up and hit the trees, salvage what is there." Brenan answered, thinking aloud.

'Look for long, thin branches that we can weave together.' Rug added, with Brenan translating his signs as best he could.

"Now there is an idea worth trying." Ludeg said grinning. "Well, let's get after it, there's not going to be much daylight left by the time we get back."

Brenan went with Ludeg toward a pair of leafless trees to the southeast, and Rug led Branag due east toward what looked like the single biggest tree in sight. They trotted through the mid calf high grass, spears up and accessible. Both destinations were a good distance away.

**********

Tulie supervised setting up the largest of the tents inland a little way between two good sized dunes to get out of the constant sea breeze. Nezzie and Inca got a bag of stew going over a small fire Wymez and Rymar set up in a burrowed out indention in the sand. The fire was fueled with grass and dung and was rather smoky.

The women came up with enough grain to make up a few grain cakes, some of which were eventually added to thicken the stew which was sorely short of greens other than seaweed. It did smell good though, and the aroma teased the tired men mercilessly.

Talut used the Clan tent to wrap over the huge pile of bundles and baskets stripped from the sledges, anchoring the edges with rocks. The sea breeze was full of sand, and everything was getting gritty to the touch.

**********

Brug and Mortan walked the coastline, Draag walked with them, hanging back to keep an eye on them. It was low tide, and the shore was littered with pretty shells and crabs scavenging. The tasty, fat blue crabs were easy to spot, and more than a few of them were captured.

Draag had a basket to carry back any fresh seaweed they came across, as well as anything the boys found. The breeze coming off the water had a definite cold bite to it, though it had been one of the warmest days in a while.

A few large rocks stuck out in the smooth sand, and some more could be seen out in the surf. The boys investigated every one for edible critters, and gathered the seaweed that often clung to them. Huge jellyfish floated just below the surface, there were a lot of them here. The boys stabbed a couple that got too close to the shoreline in knee deep water, and tossed them back out onto the sand for Draag to add to the basket.

Around one large craggy rock that stood high above the waves in thigh deep water, they pried half a dozen shellfish off the back side of it. Brug almost got bitten by an eel that struck at him from a wide crack in the rock just below the surface. After the two of them got over the shock, Mortan put a small crab on the tip of his spear to try and lure him into striking again. On the second try, Brug speared him when he stuck his head out and lunged at the bait. The eel wasn't very big, but he did have a mouthful of extraordinarily sharp teeth and looked to supply them with more than a little fresh meat.

Draag caught a strange movement out in the waves. He stared at it until he caught a better glimpse of it, and was confused by what he saw. There were the strange water animals that breathed air out there, dark brown and sleek. He had heard tales of such animals before at Clan meetings from the Clan that lived far to the south, but had never personally seen them. They were amazing to watch, and fast. He followed one of them that was swimming on the surface of the waves, and watched as the seal hopped up onto the top of a rock in the shallows. He had a silver fish in his mouth, and settled down to eat.

Another seal caught his eye, heading for the same rock from the southeast. Draag watched him swimming on top of the water, in awe of the seemingly effortless way he moved. Something was following the seal, and Draag almost jumped out of his skin when a wide fin appeared , breaking the surface of the water behind the unsuspecting seal. A huge shark busted the water right behind him, and his huge, white mouth full of jagged teeth caught the seal from behind. The shark twisted and shook the seal from side to side a few times, then tossed the lifeless body up into the air. The seal hit the water limply, and the shark circled around for another run at him.

Draag looked quickly over to the boys, now in waist deep water.

"Brug! Mor-tuh!" He called out, an excited, nervy edge to his guttural voice.

They both looked over at him quickly, and were caught off guard by his frantic, but insistent signs for them to come—now. They waded back out of the cold water as fast as they could. As they neared the shallower water, the breaking waves hindered their footing and slowed them down.

Draag watched behind them, fearful of another shark making an appearance. Every developing white cap on the surface of the water made him a little more anxious. No shark came.

**********

Brenan reached over and stopped Ludeg with an arm across his chest.

"Whoa!" His voice just above a whisper. "Look at that."

He pointed to a dark hole in the ground just to the right of the short, scraggly tree trunk a dozen paces out in front of them. Both of them studied it for a moment, then started looking over the ground around them. At first nothing was obvious. As they looked harder though, the signs were all there, all around them. Wolf signs. Tracks and dung both. A lot of them.

"Let's just back off slowly, they can have this tree." Ludeg said softly, and they did exactly that.

**********

Rug pulled a long, thin branch away from the trunk of the tree and clipped at it with his small axe. It came free on the second stroke, and he tossed it aside and reached back up for another spindly limb.

Branag climbed up the split trunk, and grabbed a hold of two of the longest limbs within his outstretched reach. He grasped them with each hand as Rug chopped off the branch below him, then hopped off the trunk and let the weight of his sizeable body pull them down to ground level. The branch in his left hand snapped, and Branag lost his balance and went down to one knee in the grass.

Rug reached up and chopped on the bent branch, freeing it on the third whack of the axe. He pulled it free from the tangles of other limbs and started cutting off the twigs.

Branag sat down, stripping the twigs off the other branch as he pulled it across his lap.

**********

The four men met up a little over half way back to camp, each of them had an armload of thin, flexible limbs bundled together with thin leather straps. Brenan told the other two about the wolf den they came across.

Ludeg stole glances behind them every few steps, all the way back as the sun began to set.

**********

After the hot evening meal, a large group sat in the sand and a long discussion took place concerning the damaged sledges. The materials on hand were not really suited to make new runners, but it was all that there was to be had.

In the end, it was decided the only way to use the new limbs would be to somehow wrap or weave them around the existing poles. This way the new limbs would add their bulk and strength to the original runners, or so went the proposed theory anyway.

Talut pulled the broken sledge into the light of the smoky fire, and various methods were tried. The limbs were just too stiff to wrap, and they were way too hard to hold in place along the bottom of the damaged poles. It took too many wraps of leather to hold them secure, and they all knew that the leather wouldn't hold up for any time at all being dragged across the sand.

Nothing was working until Ranec suggested soaking the new branches to make them more pliable and bendable. Though the idea was a good one, Talut objected. He didn't want to take the time that would be required to soak the sticks and then let them dry back out again. They had seen no further signs of the Eastern Savages, but no one was very comfortable that they weren't following behind, ready to attack at ant time.

In the end, Ranec used a wet out and heat technique to bend the thin sticks. He wet them out in a stew skin full of seawater, then heated them over the open flames for a little bit. Then he used a spear shaft to bend the sticks around them, starting the basic curves required. He was relatively successful, and before long the method was in full swing by over a dozen men and women.

The wolf songs began shortly after darkness set in. Constant and close, the wolves continued howling through the night as a large group worked on bending sticks and reworking runners. The wolves weren't the only sounds of the night, but they were the loudest and closest. It kept the camp on alert, and two groups of five guards each took their positions on top of the dunes on either side of the tent.

It was a long, busy night.

**********

It was well past dawn before the last sledge was repaired. As tired as they were, they ate a hot meal of leftover stew with added jellyfish and eel before breaking camp and heading out. There was a chill on the salty wind, but the sun was bright in a partly cloudy sky.

The sledges were even harder to push with the new, fatter runners with the twisted new sticks bogging them down. It took two men to a sledge every step of the way.

They trudged on.

**********

The next two days brought the mountain range closer and closer. One more day would put them at the base of the low end of the range.

Food stores began running out, even dried meat was running perilously low. If it weren't for Brug and Mortan's twice daily excursions on the beach, fresh foods would have been nonexistent. The boys became quite expert in scavenging the shores, and seldom came back without a basket full of bounty from the sea.

Draag watched and learned as he tagged along with them as a protector. He had become very deft at locating and digging up clams from the wet sand along the water's edge. The consummate hunter, Draag enjoyed learning better how to take advantage of this vast, previously unharvested resource. With his leg limiting his hunting prowess more than he would have liked, it was just another way for him to contribute.

**********

As the travelers approached the low rise of the start of the mountain range, the terrain began to slowly evolve. The sand dunes grew to new heights and pressed in closer to the surf, and the grasslands petered out into scrub brush and short, wind blown trees. The dunes began to be covered with a new and different type of vegetation. Stiff deep green triple stemmed plants that grew about knee high with flat, broad spiked leaves grew close together and in tight clumps. Most of the odd plants had a single pod in the center that probably held a flower at some time or another in its life cycle.

The high ground funneled the winds off the sea into a more northerly direction, creating stronger and slightly warmer, heavily gusting breezes. With the higher winds, the sand had a definite tendency to be much dryer, and carried much more easily and readily on the winds. Light, gritty sand got into everything, even the food.

The diminishing widths of the shorelines became rockier and in some places morphed into large patches of gravel with little or no sand at all. The light grey and deep brown, fist sized rock flats slowed their progression considerably and put further wear and tear on the patched together sledge runners. At times, they had to gang up and actually carry them over some of the rougher ground.

The progress made was slow and extremely tedious, but steady.

**********

"There, there they are again." Mortan said excitedly, pointing up the long slope of the low mountain to the southeast. "Right there!"

Brug and Draag both studied the heavy brush and scraggly trees at the higher elevations, looking for anything that looked even remotely out of place. Both of them saw it at the same time, a single ram lifting his head up to look around, his magnificent curved horns curling around the sides of his face.

'Let's go back and tell the others.' Draag signed.

The three of them turned back to the northeast and headed toward the campsite still being set up for the night. It wasn't far and with the excited spring in their steps it didn't take long for them to get there.

**********

"...the only way to hunt mountain goats effectively is to get above them." Ludeg was saying, the discussion on how to get at these mountain goats had been going on for a while.

"Agreed, but from where we are they will see us for sure if we try to work our way up the side of the mountain in daylight. We'll have to go up in the dark." Danug argued.

"Danug's right, how else can we get even close to them?" Salen added.

"It's rough climbing in the dark." Frebec put his opinion in the mix.

Tornec stayed busy, translating for the Clan hunters who were grouped together in the center of the gathering around the fire on the west side of the camp.

'I can lead us up the mountain quietly.' Troog signed, and the gather quieted as Tornec spoke his words.

'Our Clan often hunted country similar to this, it can be done.' Rug signed, agreeing with Troog, a very solemn but satisfied look on his face.

Talut grinned, if anyone could get them close enough to hunt this band of goats, it would be his Clan hunters. He had total confidence in their hunting abilities, he had seen their skills and incredible resolve enough times on this journey.

"Good." Talut said, loud enough to quiet the others still talking amongst themselves. "Rug and Troog will lead this hunt."

All eyes went to the two men of the Clan, and the discussion slowed as Tornec had to put their silent instructions into words for the rest of them.

Mog-ur sat back, watching proudly. He was no longer surprised by the way the hunters of the Others respected his hunters of the Clan, but it pleased him nevertheless. The way the two different peoples worked and lived together in such smooth harmony was rather inspiring. Mog-ur often wondered if this would continue, and if his Clan would end up staying with these Others when their destination was achieved. It would prove to be interesting, he thought.

**********

Eleven men and two women followed quietly behind Rug and Troog as they worked their way up the rocky slope. The half moon gave off a little light, but their night vision didn't allow them to see very far out in front of them. Footing was mostly pretty good, the slope was terraced with rock and gravel bands that the men of the Clan followed between short ascensions. The higher they got, the more grass, brush, and small trees they encountered. The slope of the mountainside grew steeper as they climbed steadily higher and higher. They followed more thin ledges as the density of the brush increased and slowed their ability to walk quietly.

Night sounds were clear but distorted by the heights and the winds grew, increasing with more gusts and stronger. Owls and nighthawks were heard often from above them, and wolves howled from the south and from somewhere beyond the other side of the peak. Somewhere above them farther to the south, a brief but loud fight took place between a badger and something else that was hard to discern. Many small, mostly unseen animals rustled through the brush around them, escaping into the darkness of the night.

The hunters stayed alert, and slightly on edge in the unfamiliar territory. The climb was tiring even at this slow and careful pace. There were no stops to rest, it was important that they got up higher on the slope than where they last saw the goats before sunrise.

They moved steadily on.

**********

Rug and Troog both stopped at the same time, both of them had caught the faint scent. Troog licked the back of his hand and held it up into the soft wind, the winds came from the south. They looked at each other for a long moment, then moved on up the slope even more slowly and quietly than before. The scent grew stronger on the gusting breeze with each whiff they caught.

Troog saw stars over the tops of the short, thick trees to his left. They were very near the peak. He and Rug veered a little more easterly and climbed up a steep bluff. When the bluff leveled off, the Clan hunters found themselves in a tangle of thick, thorn covered briars that grabbed and tore at their leggings. The dead, brittle leaves that still clung to the stiff stems rustling as they tried to find a clear path through.

The briars thinned at a waist high bluff of solid, jagged rock. Rug used a gnarly overhanging tree limb to pull himself up. When he stood up straight, he gasped at what he saw down in the valley below. Camp fires, a lot of them. Even through the darkness, they could see the smoke swirling through the valley below where the winds seemed to hold no constant direction. Now the knew the source of the scents they had caught before.

**********

"I don't guess we can assume them to be friendly." Talut whispered as the entire group of hunters looked down at the huge camp.

"It has to be the Eastern Savages, doesn't it?" Ludeg asked softly. "That camp we busted up were probably a hunting party from here."

"Probably." Talut said simply.

The moon was almost completely out of sight now, but the sunrise was not due for a good little while yet. Stars glistened above them, bright in a partly cloudy sky.

**********

Draag walked the perimeter of the camp checking on the three pair of men on guard duty. All were awake and alert, with so many of the men out hunting Draag took it on himself to assume the responsibility of the safety of the camp.

It was almost dawn, and he knew the boys would be wanting to go back to the seashore soon. It was their daily ritual. Draag walked off the top of the sand dune and back to the camp fire.

Etra nursed her baby in one arm and made up a basket of morning tea with the other. Wymez and Rymar sat near the fire with the two boys who were both pulling their spear scabbards over their shoulders and getting ready to go. Draag joined them, and Ova walked out of the tent with a small basket of food leftover form the night before. He motioned for her, and took the sleeping infant from her, cradling the little pretty little girl gently in his arms.

The shrill whistles of a covey of blue quail rang out from the grassy slope to the southeast. Sea gulls answered them with calls of their own from the shoreline to the west. Wrens, sparrows, and thrush's added their morning whistles and chirps from all over and the entire area slowly came to life.

Draag was almost finished with his second cup of an alfalfa based tea when the baby girl began to get restless in the crook of his arm. Ova sat beside him and took her, the wrap around the babies butt was a little stinky and Ova walked away from the fire to take care of her.

Brug stared at Draag, waiting as patiently as he could for the older hunter to stand up, the signal for the boys that it was time to go. The first faint glow of the coming dawn was becoming visible, and both boys were anxious.

"Draag." Wymez said, getting his attention.

When he looked over, Wymez made a subtle hand gesture toward he and Rymar that meant they both wanted to go with them. Draag nodded, and the three men stood up together.

Brug and Mortan took off, scampering out of the camp toward the shoreline ahead of them.

**********

The valley floor was still in the shadows, but the faint light made the size of the camp quite visible. The low lying depression of moderately wooded land was no where near as far down the slope as the sea was on the opposite side of the mountain. They were definitely in the higher elevations now.

There were more fires and conically shaped tents than any of the hunters could possibly count, and people were already milling about in droves. The only real clue as to who they were was seen as the sun slowly lit the camp. They all seemed to have straight, black hair.

"Wow, now that's quite a bunch of people." Ludeg whispered, his eyes wide.

"Now what?" Danug asked, looking at Talut who knelt twisting the bottom of his red beard, deep in thought.

"Well, it would be best if they didn't know we are here." He began. "But I think we could still try and hunt the mountain goats. Does any one see any guards positioned very high up anywhere?"

Talut's question spurred them all to scan the hillside between them and the camp below. It was quiet for the longest time as they all searched the wooded drop off and beyond. If the savages had guards posted, none were spotted.

"All right, Rug, it's your call." Talut said finally breaking the silence. "How do we hunt the goats?"

Rug nodded as Tornec translated Talut's question, and he motioned for them to follow him and moved quietly down off the peak far enough to be out of sight of the camp below.

**********

Wymez used a pointed stick to dig for a clam int the wet sand that Draag had pointed out to him, Rymar was doing the same thing a few steps away. Draag watched the sand as he walked slowly, and dropped to his knees to dig at the slight indention in front of him.

Brug poked at the carcass of some kind of silver fish with a greenish blue head and tail that had washed ashore just up from the waterline. A huge bite had been taken right out of the middle of him by something big. He used his spear to roll the fish remains over and reached down and plucked three crabs feeding from the jagged meat.

Mortan walked on down the edge of the water, a flurry of movement began as the sand gave way to another wide swatch of gravel. There were crabs galore, and he dropped his spear and started to chase them down. They were quick and found hiding places easily in the fist sized gravel, but Mortan's eyes were sharp and he didn't let too many get away that he tried for.

Brug saw what Mortan was into, and rushed over to join in the hunt. They gathered a lot of crabs, filling the basket high with the tasty tidbits.

**********

The goats grazed in a long, broken line on dead grass and leaves along a narrow rocky ridge some thirty paces below them to the southwest on the steep slope. The huge male with his heavy curving horns stayed a few steps higher up the rise than the females and yearlings. He was wary and constantly looking around and especially through the brush down below.

'We split into three groups, come around them from above and try to trap them between us.' Rug signed to the semicircle of hunters in front of him. 'I will lead the far group, "Troog" the center, "Tral-ut" stay here. I will give the signal when we are all in place.'

Tornec whispered the plan to the rest of them , and they split up into three groups. Rug led Tulie, Brenan, Salen, and Mekan quietly south behind a low tangle of brush. Troog followed behind them with his crew of six quietly in tow. Talut and Vincavec stayed with Silvie, Jozen, and Tornec and scouted out a good place to hide and wait.

Troog set his six hunters spread out in a loose line, and watched the lead band move on to the south in the cover of a line of short trees. The slope increased for a short span, slowing Rug and the others considerable as they struggled to keep their footing and still move quietly. He lost sight of them through the cover as Brenan brought up the rear and disappeared behind a wide brown rock outcrop. Troog could lean over around the trunk of a stunted evergreen and could just barely see the muscular shape of the mountain goat down the drop off some thirty five to forty paces.

Rug moved up the slope to get behind some brush on the edge of a rock bluff about knee high, he froze suddenly half way over the moss covered rock. A strange sound from just past the brush gave him pause. He pulled his favorite spear from the scabbard across his back and motioned for Tulie to follow and the rest to stay put. The look on his face left no doubt as to his command for silence.

Tulie got a firm grip on her long throwing spear and crawled behind Rug as he slunk low to the ground and up behind a bush covered with dark brown, brittle leaves. Then she heard it too, a soft voice speaking briefly in a rhythmic sing-song cadence. Tulie's heart raced as she took a deep breath to calm her quivering hands.

Rug reached out and pulled the tops of a clump of brown grass gently to his left, peering past the obstruction. There were two of them, Eastern Savages wrapped in heavy sleeping furs with two of their short, long tipped spears between them. They occasionally peered down the steep slope, but mostly sat and talked quietly.

Tulie crawled up beside Rug, and had to fight back a gasp when she saw them. She looked to Rug, and he made a hand gesture that she understood. Tulie swallowed hard, then nodded her head. They backed away from the two guards quietly. As soon as they were back out of sight, Rug pulled a second spear out and grasped it firmly in his left hand and got up into a crouch. He started back up behind the bush to his right. Tulie mimicked him, grasping her own two spears and followed beside him.

The two guards heard the pop of a twig just before they both went down from the well thrown spears. The nearest one grunted loudly as the point bit deep into his side, busting his ribs as the flint cut deeply through his vital organs. The other savage was hit in the upper back, and screamed out once before falling on his face. The sound echoed out in the stillness of the peaceful early morning.

Rug dropped his spare spear and with five steps was quickly on top of the man that screamed, cutting his throat full across with his knife. Blood spewed into the air. He jumped over to the other one and yanked his head back by the hair and cut his throat as well.

Tulie watched Rug finish them off, her whole body shaking and trembling.

Rug picked up their weapons, stashing them in his scabbard and turned to peer down into the shallow valley. Tulie took a deep breath and went over to look down herself beside him. His hands and forearms were covered with blood.

There was no discernable change in the activities down below, they appeared to not have heard the scream. Rug watched for a moment longer, then took Tulie by the arm and led her back away from the top of the crest just as Brenan led the other two hunters into the guard station.

Rug was visibly shaken, but set his jaw firmly and signed slowly but his hands trembled slightly as he did.

'We go on, this hunt is important.'

**********

"What was that?" Druwez whispered softly, looking to Frebec all scrunched down beside him behind a tall patch of light brown grass.

Frebec wondered himself, the sound was terribly distorted, but still it sounded somewhat like a human scream. A distant scream, but human. The gusty winds this high up the face of the mountain made everything appear noticeably out of place and skewed. The odd sounds of the winds whistling through the dead grass and brush, and the soft rustling of the stiff needles of the evergreens seemed to come at them from odd directions. He looked at Druwez and slowly shook his head.

Troog heard the soft exchange and looked over at Druwez and shot him a hard look, Druwez cringed and nodded. Troog looked back down through the short trees, the male was out of his realm of vision again, but he could see three females and a yearling grazing on a ledge unconcerned. He exhaled slowly, Troog didn't realize he had been holding his breath.

Frebec grinned at Druwez, whose red face almost glowed. The young man was so intent on becoming a full fledged hunter that he sometimes seemed to try too hard. So far, he had conducted himself well on every outing he had been a part of. The boy was definitely growing up, he thought, seeing the growth of soft reddish fuzz that covered his chin and cheeks.

A whistle, not too unlike a meadow lark came from the south. The hunters in the center position all heard it, and with a subtle hand sign from Troog, they all got ready to move. Troog looked to Druwez, then made another hand sign to the boy.

Druwez felt a flush of confidence and acceptance, and puckered his lips and whistled twice. Once to the south, then again to the north.

**********

Talut heard the whistle, and couldn't help but to grin. He reached over and nudged Vincavec beside him with the butt of his spear, and Vincavec got the attention of the others with a wave. They all quietly got ready, getting up into a crouch with their weapons at hand.

**********

Draag peered down the steep slope, charting his next few steps. He walked in a crouch toward a flat rock next to a short evergreen slowly, the grass rustling underneath his feet softly. His footfalls quieted when he reached the rock, and he slid down to his knees to look over the edge of the slope again.

Tulie stayed two steps behind him, a hard, determined look on her tear streaked, dirty face. Every time she looked at Draag, all she could see was his blood stained hands and forearms. The emotional turmoil she felt inside kept her mind reeling from one extreme to another.

The sudden ambush was terrible, but oh so necessary. Tulie would never forget the feelings of pure fear and loathing that was always in the front of her mind whenever she thought back to the unprovoked attack on the river bank. The Eastern Savages had been brutal, as brutal and remorseless as Chaleg and his band had been so long ago. These thoughts never seemed far from the forefront of her mind these days.

So many deaths, she remembered, so many evil people. Up until two years ago, Tulie had never even heard of people killing people, and now---she had killed herself, several times. A wave of cold chills washed over her entire body, raising prickly feeling goose flesh. She took a deep, ragged breath as another fat tear rolled down her cheek, and suddenly she felt grateful. Draag had not even hesitated, he had seen the threat to them all and quickly neutralized it. Tulie admired the quiet resolve of this man of the Clan, she knew he had been through a lot in his life and come through it all stronger and wiser. I guess we all have, she thought to herself as Draag stepped down off the rock three steps out in front of her.

Tulie should have been paying better attention to what she was doing, instead of simply following behind Draag. Her cluttered mind was not focused on the hunt the way it should be, and when she stepped off the flat rock her foot slipped. Two fist sized rocks rolled out from under her foot, and Tulie plopped down on her wide butt. One of the rocks rolled to a stop against the trunk of a leafless tree. The other bounced along the uneven ground, picking up speed as the slope dropped off. It disappeared over the side of a rocky crag, and the crack of it hitting something hard over the edge of the outcrop made them all freeze in place.

**********

The old male goat looked up and snorted. The scattered females below him all looked up, and quickly followed him as he took off to the south.

Even in the rough terrain of the rocky slope, the sure footed goats were able to traverse the mountain side with relative ease. No animal was ever more in their own element than they were, and they moved with a grace that belied their speed.

**********

The clattering of their soft hooves sounded like thunder to the center group of hunters who had just started down the slope and were caught by surprise with the noise. Troog pulled his spear up and looked around for any possible cover to hide in. His hunters all froze, raising their own weapons and trying to follow the hard to read the direction of the coming sounds.

The male popped up nimbly between two short evergreens right out in front of and between Druwez and Ranec. He was close enough for Druwez to see the goat's golden eyes with the dark vertical slits that made him look scary—and mad. He suddenly dropped his head and charged right at them.

Ranec set his feet and let go with a powerful throw, the spear flying fast and true. The spear hit the goat full in the ribs just a little in front of his rear legs, and Druwez fired his own spear just as Ranec's made contact. Druwez' spear hit the goat behind the front shoulder on the opposite side as the goat spun around from the impact of the first spear. The second spear knocked him off his feet and he slid down the slope and out of sight, legs kicking out in furious abandon.

Troog saw the male go over the edge and out of sight just as a pair of females went by just below. He got off a shot, and so did Thorec a few steps off to his right. Neither man could see the results of their throws.

Frebec caught a glimpse of a goat running awkwardly with a spear protruding through her neck, and sighted in on her and let fly. A second goat passed her in a leaping bound and then was gone through the brush. He lost sight of the goat he had thrown at, and straightened up to look down the slope.

**********

Talut heard them coming, and whistled as he dropped into a crouch. The rest of his hunters quickly followed his lead, raising their spears.

The first goat came over the rise right in the midst of the last group of hunters, climbing the rise in leaps and short bounds. By the time they got their spears up ready, there were five goats right in the middle of them. Spears flew in rapid succession, and three more goats, two of them the smaller yearlings, came at them. It was almost like a competition, a rapid fire shooting gallery. They were everywhere, and they were fast afoot.

When Talut reached over his wide shoulders to pull out his third spear, it was over. Down below, he heard more animals escaping, those who had not tried to climb the slope made it away unscathed. Five goats lay writhing before him, three of them hit with more than one spear.

**********

Rug helped Troog pull the large male over the large rock ridge by the horns. They struggled with his weight briefly, then the incredible strength of the men of the Clan won out. As soon as they had him securely on more level ground, Rug made a quick sign to Troog.

'We must hurry and catch up with the "Others".

Troog gave him a questioning look, but nodded and squatted down without openly questioning his leader. Rug grabbed the horns of the goat, and with a mighty yank pulled the limp body of the goat over Troog's back. Troog grabbed the front legs of the goat, crossed them over his chest, and stood up.

The weight of the old male was no real burden to the strong man of the Clan, and he walked slowly behind Rug as they followed along the rock ledge back to the south. They caught up with the hunters of both southern groups, and two more freshly slain mountain goats.

Rug took the larger female over his back, and Frebec helped Druwez get a grip on the smaller one. Druwez was determined to carry his kill all by himself, and did, though not as easily as the powerful Clan man were able to.

They continued south, climbing the mountainside along the rocky ledge.

**********

The hunters all gathered at the southern killing field. Talut had removed all the spears, but had just dragged the carcasses into the clear space between the brush when the others arrived. The butchering had not yet begun.

They had all took a moment to catch their breath, and Rug and Troog added their goats to the others all laid out in a neat row. Druwez patted Troog on the shoulder after dropping his goat, grinning broadly. Talut watched with a deep sense of pride, glad the young man had obviously done well as Troog put his hand on Druwez' shoulder and gave him a squeeze. The relaxed mood of the tired bunch didn't last very long.

"Listen up," Tulie said in a firm, but not overly loud voice. "We have some bad news..."

**********

The trek back down the mountain was considerably quicker than the trip up had been in the dark. They had the seven goats gutted out and tied to a pair of spears by the hooves, the two smaller yearlings tied to a single pair of spears. Everyone shared the burden of carrying the goats down, and it made for rather tricky footing on several occasions as they hit steep sections of the hillside. It took until mid morning to get down to level ground, and they came off the mountain well to the south of the camp. The rest of the walk back went easier in the soft, level sand.

**********

"...we have to get going as soon as the goats are skinned out and cut up." Tulie was saying, addressing the entire camp. "The Eastern Savages are bound to find the dead guards soon, or at the least notice then missing. We hid the bodies, but it was rocky and all we could do was to cover them with limbs and grass. The vultures are sure to find them and give away their location. People, there are way too many of them for us to fight. Way too many, we have to flee, now."

Tulie's words were sobering. The camp lingered around quietly for a long, quiet moment, then slowly kicked into action. The camp was on the move in no time, trudging south in the sand.

Brenan, Danug, and Branag made up the rear guard, staying a hundred paces or so behind the long line of travelers. They all watched over their shoulders, and up the steep slopes of the mountains as they walked.

Every sound they heard got their undivided attention and made them jumpy and nervous, and many sounds came off the steep slopes, twisted and made indiscernible by the gusty winds.

**********

"If we stop here, we still can't afford to make a fire." Tulie argued with Talut as the long procession trudged past them. "We need to go on."

Talut stared at Tulie, she was being her usual hard headed self, but with an edge of fearful defiance this time. This wasn't normal, nothing shakes her this bad, he thought to himself as he stared at her tear stained cheeks.

"All right, we'll walk on through the night, but we need to stop soon and give them a rest."

Tulie grinned up at her sibling, and nodded. She was too weary to fight, and grateful Talut had acquiesced so easily. Her hands trembled slightly when she picked up the heavy skin full of bulky cooking platters and such, heaving it over her shoulder and turning to follow a group of women as they passed.

**********

Late afternoon the next day, the shoreline turned abruptly to the east behind a low wooded hill that seemed to grow out abruptly from the base of the mountain range. It was faced with heavy, jagged, dark grey rock that ran all the way into the surf. It took a while to get past the ridge at the waters edge, but when they did it was well worth the effort. A narrow inlet bay stretched out before them and a warm, light breeze blew around the mountain range and turned back across them and on out to sea. Across the bay, a long line of strange, tall thin trees with fat wavy tops blew and swayed in the wind.

They were all weary to the point of dropping, having been on a forced march for almost two full days. Talut and Rug got the tent put up at the base of the hill with the open ends windward. No one bothered to unpack anything more than a few sleeping furs, and other than the guards posted at the top of the wooded hill, everyone else found a place to sleep.

Brenan and Ludeg took the first watch. They found a great vantage point beside the fat trunk of an evergreen at the top of the hill. From here, they could see a long, long way back behind them.

**********

The moon was high when Brenan and Ludeg came off guard duty, relieved by Branag and Thorec. The two of them had been at the rear guard during the entire trek, and thankfully had seen no visible signs of the savages following them at all. With any luck, it would stay that way.

In no time they dug out and lined a large fire pit with rocks, piled it high with dead wood and lit it up. They watched the smoke of the fire carry out to sea, glad that the bright glow of the fire would be impossible to see from the other side of the hill. There was a lot of dead fall on the hill, and the two of them along with Rug and Druwez had gathered up a huge pile of it.

Nezzie and Etra cut up one of the yearling goats into long steaks, getting it ready to put on the spit that Ludeg was finishing setting up. Their babies slept peacefully with freshly full bellies on a sleeping fur laid out on the ground nearby.

Most of the others were still asleep, but the smell of roasting meat would remedy that soon enough. There was a lot of meat to be cooked and dried, if all went well, they would be here for a while.

**********

"What is that?" Mortan asked, forgetting to sign as he spoke, a rare occurrence for him when he was out with Brug. This time, though, it didn't matter, Brug had seen the same thing. The water glistened in the early morning sun, casting bright, shimmering sparkles off the tops of the low waves. It was well after dawn, and the boys felt like they had wasted the majority of the morning having just now gotten out to scavenge the beaches.

The two boys watched the water to the south, and it happened again. A spew of water erupted from the surface, along with a huge black dorsal fin that slid up and then quickly back down out of sight.

Draag saw it too, and caught up to the boys as they stood still watching for more. The three of them watched as the strange sight repeated itself a few more times, each time getting closer to the far eastern shore of the inlet bay. When the water got shallow, the black fins stayed out of the water and they caught glimpses of the huge black and white bodies of the monster sized animals.

All of the sudden, a huge exodus of seals appeared waddling up the shore to the far east. The surface of the water exploded behind them and a black and white head popped up into sight with a seal in his mouth. The orca twisted his head with a jerk, and tossed the seal back behind him where another on burst up out of the water and grabbed the limp body. Both of them disappeared back into the blue-green water.

The three hunters watched with their mouths hung wide open, none of them had ever seen anything quite like it. The scene repeated itself a few moments later, with three of the huge orcas this time, tossing around two seals.

Brug shifted his attention to the mass of seals congregated up on the beach. He looked all around them, hoping to see some kind of cover to hide in. His hunters mind at work, this looked like a prime situation to him, how to best take advantage of it. Brug watched every movement the seals made, studying their tendencies and habits as another group of them escaped the feeding orcas. He saw a pattern slowly begin to develop, and his mind kicked into high gear.

**********

"This is the best meat I've tasted in months!" Talut said, talking with a mouth stuffed full and the platter in his lap absolutely overflowing.

"Oh Talut, you're exaggerating again, you're just hungry as always." Nezzie chided gently, smiling with Manut firmly ensconced to her breast. Her tunic was open to the waist, and his little pudgy hands grasped at the other breast as if to protect it for himself.

The late afternoon sun began to wane into a thin cluster of light clouds high on the far horizon. It should make for a magnificent sunset later.

Not quite half the meat was cooked, and a group of women kept the spit loaded and fresh meat cut up and ready to go. Another group of men and women worked the hides, smoking them over another fire set up on the outskirts of the camp to the southern side. They used grass and soaked dead fall to generate the heavy smoke necessary to cure the hides out quickly but properly.

On top of the wooded hilltop, Ludeg and Thorec kept watch to the north. The watch durations were rather short, as other men took over the duty on a regular basis. It was a relaxing afternoon, and everyone tried to catch up on the meals they had missed throughout their rapid exodus.

Druwez hung around with Wymez, Rymar, Branag, Danug, and Brenan at the north side of the fire. He liked the company of these expert tool makers, and joined them whenever they got together to ply their trades. They always seemed to be willing to teach him and never grew tired of his constant questions. It amazed Druwez just how much these men knew, but watching and listening to them dissecting this odd black stone was rather incredible. For once, no one had all the answers. In fact, this discussion seemed to generate more questions than answers, at least so far.

Brenan had brought out the back pack full of the shiny black stone he had picked up, some of it had been pre-shaped roughly, but most of it was still in the rough. It was all Druwez could do to keep from laughing the first time Wymez took a swing at the stone. The look on his face as the wide, jagged flake popped off and struck Danug in the chest was just too funny.

"Ow!" Danug exclaimed, pulling the piece of sharp edged stone out of his lap. "You did that on purpose."

Wymez laughed, then picked up the piece of shiny rock. The piece that had broken off was erratically shaped and the indention from where it came from was oddly shaped as well. It had not broken off at all like he had presumed that it would from the angle of the stroke, Wymez studied it for a moment, deep in thought. He passed it around the small circle, each man examining the stone and offering their thoughts.

Druwez listened intently, learning something new from the conversation than he never thought was even possible. These fine craftsmen, the best he had ever seen, were having a hard time.

**********

Brug and Mortan looked over the flat sands near where the seals had all come out of the water this morning, escaping the assault of the orcas. Draag was with them, and walked the loose, fluffier sand a little further inland.

They had seen no more signs of the orcas, but the seals had congregated out in the water on what must have been a narrow sand bar island. They were in constant motion, swimming out and diving out of sight for long periods of time before returning to the sand bar to eat the fish they came out of the water with. Mostly, they caught a slender, silver fish that looked a lot like mullet from the shore. Mullet tended to school up into huge numbers in the shallows, and more than once dark streaks were seen from the shores that was probably them.

Draag dropped to his knees, testing the density of the sand by shoveling it with his hands. It was easy to shape, and he stood back up and studied the immediate surroundings all around him.

Brug and Mortan walked the shoreline, and Draag walked out to join them. The signs the seals left in the sands had mostly dissipated near the waterline, but they found all sorts of markings in the dry sands. Odd markings, had they not seen directly what had made them Draag didn't think he would have figured it out on his own.

Draag walked around the area, stopping three times to draw a line in the sand with his foot. The boys were curious, and followed him. He walked back to the center position that he had marked, and explained his plan to the anxious boys.

'We dig small trenches in the sand to hide in, scoop it out with your hands like this.' Draag signed, dropping to his knees and demonstrating. 'Make a mound in front with the sand you pull out.'

The boys caught on quickly, and rushed over to the outlying positions and started scooping sand. The sand here was wet under the surface which slowed their progress, but they were all diligent and kept at it. Draag showed them how to shape the mound in front of the ditches and then smooth it over to make it look more natural from the waterline.

The sun touched the horizon by the time they were finished and walked back to camp.

**********

"...what would happen if you heated this stone like you do flint?" Druwez asked.

"That may be a good idea." Brenan answered, studying the stone in his lap. He had little luck shaping this stubborn black rock, everything he tried resulted differently than he was used to with flint. "Nothing else I have tried has worked well at all."

"Me either." Danug said, scowling at his bloody thumb he had cut with a flying chip. The stone in his lap was jagged and crude, and he stuck his thumb in his mouth to clean the blood off it while he contemplated trying something different.

"Try it like this," Wymez said, lifting the shiny black rock up and tracing a line across the stone with his finger. "Strike it softly along the outside of the ridge with a blunt punch." Wymez held the heavily worn bone punch up to the rock at an odd angle.

They all watched intently as Wymez demonstrated, a neat piece flaking off with the first whack of his hammer stone against the back of the punch. Wymez redirected the punch and hit it again to similar results, and everyone of the skilled stone workers watched his every move.

"Wow, I like the looks of that." Branag said, and picked up a similar punch of his own from the tools at his side.

Chipping sounds rang out anew from the circle, Druwez watched their various techniques for a moment before concentrating on his own stone. The first strike he made was promising, and he grinned as he re-positioned the punch for another go.

Rymar took a break and watched Druwez as he struck the stone again and again. He smiled at the young man's funny facial expressions he made while he concentrated as he worked. Rymar saw Wymez watching Druwez as well, and the two older men shared a smile at Druwez efforts. The boy was learning.

**********

Just before dawn, the three of them walked quietly out of camp. Draag led the two boys, insisting that they follow him this time. Normally he merely followed them as they scavenged the beaches, but today they were on a new kind of hunt. A hunt that none of them were familiar with.

Draag stopped well short of their destination, and the boys flanked him as they all stared into the darkness ahead. Dark shapes littered the beach, right out in front of the mound fronted ditches they had dug to hide in. It was hard to see, but the dark bodies of the seals against the lightness of the sand well enough.

'What do we do now?' Brug signed, holding his hands up for Draag to see in the darkness.

Draag shrugged his shoulders, he had no idea, this was not at all what he expected to see. Was it possible to sneak up on them, he wondered.

Mortan wondered the same thing beside him, as did Brug. Brug, however, hung a twist on the idea.

'If we circle around to the east, maybe we can crawl up to our hiding places.' He signed, and saw the sparkling in Mortan's eyes as he did.

Draag thought about this for a moment, then decided Brug's idea was worth a try. He motioned for them to follow, and walked slowly to the east, directly away from the shoreline.

**********

One thing the three hunters learned quickly was that these seals have an excellent sense of smell. As soon as they were upwind, the seals barked amongst themselves and retreated into the surf. The gathered back out at the sand bar island, observing the funny smelling humans.

'We try to get into position tonight before dark, or maybe just after dark.' Draag signed, wishing they had tried to approach more from the southeast and out of the wind. He considered the pros and cons of either plan, there was a lot to think about.

Brug and Mortan were disappointed, but didn't allow it to spoil their morning hunt altogether. They took off back up the beach, scavenging as usual. Draag watched them go, and kept an occasional eye on them while studying the seals more intently from a distance. How they moved, what they were watching, learning from every idiosyncracy they showed to him. He noticed quickly that they seemed to communicate with each other regularly, almost constantly in fact. This was important information, he thought, as he stored this knowledge away for future reference.

**********

At the first shift change of the guards on the hilltop, they spotted them in the early morning sunlight. A line of people trotting along the surf line far to the north in a single line. There were eight of them, their long black hair blowing loosely in the coastal winds.

Brenan left the other three men at the top of the hill, heading quickly back down to camp to find Talut. It was the last thing he wanted to see this morning.

**********

Long before the encroaching Eastern Savages were any where near close enough to engage, Talut put his plan into action. Thirty three adults, both men and women, including Druwez, Mortan, and Brug all trotted out from the bottom of the wooded hillside together. They were all well armed and made a show of it, holding their spears away from their bodies as they spread out into a wide line to face the small band. They stood a few body lengths apart, showing their superior numbers and exaggerating them as well as they could.

The line of savages slowed, then stopped. The showdown didn't last very long, and the savages retreated back down the waterline to the north without challenging the travelers.

The wide line stayed still and in place, watching them leave. No one in the group was sad to see them go without further conflict. In fact, this bloodless victory tasted rather good they all thought in one way or another.

Talut felt a wave of relief as they trotted away, but knew that it was now time to move on again. He couldn't help but to remember the incredible number of savages they had seen in the shallow valley, and now they will all know just exactly where we are, he thought to himself. It was not a pleasant thought.


	26. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

_**The Smoking Mountain**_

Four days later they reached the opposite side of the narrow inlet bay. It had been a forced, hard trek but thus far they had seen no further signs of the Eastern Savages. The weather stayed fair, a rather warm breeze continued to blow in off the sea. Nights were still pretty cool, but the abundance of drift wood that cluttered the beaches on a regular basis made it easy to fuel the fires. The base of the mountains crowded the shoreline more and more, narrowing the beach as they traveled due west now, circling the inlet bay.

"It does seem to cure the meat a little more thoroughly, but it's not as fast. I do like the salt tang that the sea air gives it though." Talut said to Tulie, observing the new drying racks that had been incorporated onto the center of the sledge. The last of the long strips of goat meat dangled and swayed in the breeze.

They had stopped for a mid day meal of dried meat and a cold serving of mostly seaweed and pre-cooked meat stew leftover from the night before. No one ranged out very far from the group, it was to be a short break.

"It does taste good, even without other seasonings." She answered, chewing a morsel Talut had shared with her slowly. She turned, following the beach to the west. "This beach just gets narrower and narrower."

"I've noticed." Talut said, looking out in front of them.

The mountain range just kept encroaching further and further for as far as the eye could see. The surf broke wildly on a jagged, diagonal line well out into the bay that stretched over halfway across toward the center of the bay. Large white capped waves crested there, then faded away into a much more tranquil gentleness that held all the way back to the light tan sands. Some kind of steep rise along the bottom affected the water dramatically there, and it appeared that whatever it was stretched all the way inland. It looked to be a few more days walk out in front of them. The break served to calm the large waves considerably, and the water was calm and almost still all the way inland from the white capped obstruction. Because of this break in the waves, the narrow seashore to the south side along the base of the mountain range was relatively clear of the heavier waves from the sea beyond.

A wide indention reached up the broad, steep rise creating a distinct break in the scattered trees and brush. It almost looked like a wide flowing river of deep grey and black rock. An occasional scraggly bush, a patch of dead grass, or a gnarly scrub tree or two was all that grew within this dark expanse.

To the far west, the steep mountain range looked as if it turned back to the south. It was hard to tell very well from this far away, but the semi-straight path they were on currently looked to be about to wander south all over again.

**********

A magnificent sunset brought a beautiful, serene end to another long day. Billowy clouds blowing in from the far southwestern horizon accented all the striking colors in an incredible fashion, holding them and glowing brightly in the waning sunlight.

A narrow break in the steep, sparsely wooded mountainside produced a fresh water runoff creek that emptied into the sea. The far side of the creek stepped up the height of a man in a long gravel and rock bluff that seemed to grow right out of the light colored sand.

It was relatively easy to get everything across. After filling all the nearly depleted water bags they decided to set up camp on the high side of the bluff where the slightly drifting sands again swallowed up all the other ground cover. The winds here tended to be a little stronger, especially in the occasional gusts, thick with moisture and tasting salty.

The long traveling tent was set up with the end of it partially out of the wind behind a steep, huge rock that had begun life well up the jagged slope above at some time in the past. Set up at an angle from the bottom of the huge rock, then pointing back toward the sea, the inside of the tent would get only some of the coastal winds to blow through.

The fire pit was dug in and set up behind the tent, using it as a wind break. A couple of dead trees were broken up and hauled down the slope, so firewood was plentiful this evening. They kept it stoked high, and the shadows flickered up the mountainside eerily.

**********

"...it works most of the time." Wymez was saying, holding up a small tool made from the antler of a red deer. The tool was blunt and slightly rounded at one end, and carved into a narrow chisel point at the other. All told, it was as long as Wymez' hand was wide.

"You must work this stone in very small increments, one little jagged flake at a time. Watch."

Wymez pulled the hammer stone off the small skin beside him on the ground that was loaded with stone working tools. Every man in the small, tight circle of stone workers watched intently as Wymez carefully positioned the new, wedge tipped punch on the shiny black stone that rested on a wide flat rock in his lap. Wymez gave the punch a small, controlled wrap with the hammer stone, and a small piece of rock flew off away from his lap. He studied what he had done, then set the punch back onto the stone in almost the same place from before, and hit it again.

A few moments and half a dozen carefully placed whacks later, Wymez stopped and passed the stone and his new tool around. They all saw how the new type of punch gave an extra measure of control on the hard to work stone, and the improved shape that Wymez had accomplished in a short time.

"Did you make this new punch?" Branag asked.

"No, Draag did. He is the one responsible for this new method." Wymez answered with a sly grin.

All eyes went to Draag, the only Clan man in the circle. He felt their stares and was slightly put off by them for a moment as he lowered his head to ostensibly study the rock Wymez had chipped. Draag took a deep breath and looked back up at the rest of them, realizing that they were all making that odd grimacing look that the Clan only made when bothered or annoyed. The crude signs they made to him were all voicing appreciation and giving him praise, and Draag nodded as he passed the stone and the tool he made back to Wymez beside him.

"May I?" Brenan asked, reaching out for the tool from the other side of Wymez. Wymez handed it over and Branag looked at it anew with Brenan.

"I guess everyone wants one like this?" Branag asked, answered quickly by a circle of nodding heads.

"Looks like we have some work to do, I wonder if Ranec has any megaceros antlers put aside." Brenan asked, then stood up with Branag joining him.

"I'll go see." Druwez said, hopping to his feet and walking back toward the central fire.

Wymez watched him go, happy that the young man had kept his promise from so long ago to become a stone worker. Most young men who began the exhaustive training never really put enough effort into it to become much more than average with the skills of working the difficult stone. Druwez had never flagged nor wavered in his interest, had never grown weary of the sometimes monotonous tasks required to be good at all this. In fact, he was becoming quite good at recognizing the merits of a stone in the earliest stages of working it. He did ask enough questions, Wymez thought to himself, grinning broadly.

Darkness fell.

**********

Draag sat on an exposed grey rock that stuck up out of the sand about as high as his knee. With great care, he pulled his knife over the piece of antler. A thin, white sliver curled around the edge of the sharp flint blade. He worked over a small, flat light grey rock in his lap, holding the tool carefully in his left hand while carving on it with his right. Looking up briefly, he saw Brug and Mortan work their way down the beach in the dim light of the dawn.

They weren't very far away, moving slowly and quietly together. Draag caught a glimpse of a dark grey fin slice through the surface of the water well out away from the sandy beach. It disappeared quickly, leaving a rippling trail dissipating outward in a long vee on the surface of the oddly calm water. He watched the area for a while, and saw nothing else. The boys had been told not to go into the water any deeper than their knees, and Draag had no fear of them disobeying him, they never did.

Taking a deep breath, he turned his attention back to the antler, positioning his knife for another stroke. A soft gust of wind blew his wavy, long dark hair back away from his face. He pulled the knife down the length of the antler, increasing the pressure gradually along the length of it as he did. Another curl of bone wrapped around the flint blade gracefully.

Mortan hopped up on a huge driftwood log with several stumps of what had once been limbs jutting out from one end of it. Brug hopped over the log and scampered after a large blue crab that was nimbly heading back to the safety of the water. Brug nabbed him, and stowed him away into the basket behind Mortan, then together they rolled the log over to find three more blue crabs and a brown one with extra large claws. None escaped, and this mornings stew would be all the richer because of it.

**********

A few clouds rolled in during the afternoon, and it was still a few hours before dusk when the first raindrops began to fall. The winds picked up slightly, forcing the rain to fall at long angles making it virtually impossible to stay any where near dry while continuing on.

They stopped to pitch camp early, and set the tent up behind a rare stand of evergreens at the bottom of the slope. The rainwater coming off the mountain had soaked most of the dead fall nearby, and they had to scavenge far and wide to find enough dry fire wood to get the main fire going. Once a good bed of coals had been established, wet wood burned well enough though it tended to smoke heavily and pop a lot. One good thing about staying on the beach was that the sand sucked up water quickly and well, and the ground beneath the tent stayed relatively dry.

Near dawn, the rain ended and the sky began to clear. The winds continued, a little stronger than they usually were, but not strong enough to cause any real hardships. They moved on just after first light.

**********

A little after mid day, another bluff of rock and sand extended off the steep slopes and barred their way. A small creek ran along the bottom of the bluff through the loose rocks, appearing and disappearing. The obstacle ran out well into the water and the sand beach gave way to a smooth rock sided drop off. This presented the travelers with a new challenge and it stopped all progress while the problem was considered and addressed. A group of men traversed the embankment to see what all they were up against this time.

Three tiers with sandy flats between them, the bluff rose up over four times as high as Talut was tall. The first bluff wall was solid rock about chest high, the next was broken rock, gravel, and sand about half again taller than the first. The last was a gentle slope of wind blown sand half way up another ridge of mostly solid dark grey rock, it was taller than the first two put together.

At the top of the highest section of the bluff, the view out to sea was incredible. Down the sheer rock cliff, fish could be seen swimming and lounging in the deep water and scattered boulders directly below them. To the south, there was no real beach, and the ground stayed solid rock and narrow for a good way, maybe three or four days walk. From up here, they could also see far back from where they had just come.

Talut and Brenan both saw it at the same time, almost to the end of the narrow inlet a triple wide line of Eastern Savages trotted neatly along the seashore. There were too many of them to count. Neither man said anything, just watching and considering things silently in their own minds. Talut tried to use landmarks to judge how many days back these fierce people were still behind them. He could barely make out two of their previous campsites. But it was really hard to figure a rate of progression when his group was heavily burdened with so many belongings and the encroachers carried no more than their weapons and the packs on their backs.

The other men up on the top of the bluff eventually all saw the same thing, and a new sense of urgency came over them. The need to get the entire group up to this point of the bluff, and to do it quickly was strong. Ludeg led the effort to establish the easiest places to climb, and even moved some of the smaller rocks that obstructed these potential paths.

The sledges had to be mostly unpacked and carried, and many trips were required to get all their belongings up to the top most level of rocky ground at the apex of the long bluff. At the steeper rock ledges, a line of people tossed bundles up one after the other to each other, making a chain. At the tallest step of the ascent, Danug and Branag helped to get the women and children up, while Rug and Talut caught them from above and pulled them the rest of the way up onto level ground. It was a long, tiring afternoon.

**********

It was well into the sunset before everyone and everything was at the top. Rocks had to be piled up to support the three center tent poles, and also to hold down the sides of the tent. The gusting winds buffeted the sewed together tent constantly. It was well after dark before they could move in and set out the sleeping furs.

A quick meal of dried meat and leftover crab based stew was warmed up, and most of the tired group was asleep early.

Brenan, Danug and Branag took the first watch. They positioned themselves at a high, flat rock and tried to locate the savages in the twilight. The moon had not yet made an appearance, and their efforts yielded no real results.

Wolves howled from all over the mountain range, both near and far. Their sad songs distorted and amplified by the winds and the steep slopes of the mountainside.

**********

Brenan cuddled up to Latie, pulling himself under her sleeping furs. He hadn't bothered to undress, and the clothes he wore were cold to the touch from the cool winds outside. Brenan and his other two watch partners had just been relieved and he was in dire, immediate need of some deep, sound sleep. Latie elbowed him as he tried to spoon up against her from behind, shying away from the coldness of him, still deep in sleep. Bralut squirmed at her other side from the movement, and cried out once before locating her bare breast. Brenan tried once more to pull Laties warm body against his own, and this time she elbowed him a little harder in the ribs.

Giving up, Brenan rolled away from his mate and wrapped his own sleeping fur around his cold upper body and rearranged his folded fur pillow. The furs warmed quickly adding to his body heat, and Brenan felt himself relaxing more and more. Just as his eyes began to close, a low rumbling caused him to open them back up and pay attention. He thought at first that it was thunder, but then he realized that the sky was almost completely clear outside. Brenan rolled over onto his back, his eyes wide open now, staring up into the darkness, the tent walls constantly moving in the wind.

The hard ground seemed to almost be moving under him, the odd sounds appeared to be coming from deep down under the very rock itself. The sounds came again, a little stronger this time and lasting a little longer before fading away. There was one last low rumbling, much softer and weaker this time, and it was the last thing Brenan remembered before falling asleep.

**********

"What in Mut's great earth is that?" Ludeg whispered, his voice raspy and tired. He stared down into the darkness from the top of the second tier of the bluff, sitting beside Danug who was trying his best to stay awake by adding a few sticks to the fire.

Danug had a hard time focusing down into the darkness where Ludeg pointed, the light of the fire still bright in his eyes. The night was still dark, but the new day was not too far away.

"What do you see, I can't see anything." Danug whispered back, and yawned again, blurring his faulty vision even more with the tears from his yawn.

"There, right there next to the shoreline." Ludeg said, nudging Danug and pointing again to the northwest, a long way out. "Watch closely, there, see it?"

This time Danug did see something as the yawn finally subsided and he concentrated anew. When the low waves rolled in just right, they reflected the light of the half moon at an odd angle and the shoreline shimmered with thin flickers of light that allowed the slightest bits of distorted vision. Another glimpse revealed a wide band of wispy movement at the waters edge. Danug sat up straight, then stood up slowly and walked to the edge of the light of the small perimeter fire. Ludeg followed him, both men's night vision improving slightly with every step they took.

The night sounds all around seemed to grow slightly louder away from the soft crackling of the small fire, and their senses sharpened as they stopped at the edge of the abrupt stone drop off. The soft lapping and splashing of the sea below as it came to an end against the rock barrier below them was accented by the mewing of a pair of seagulls perched on an outcrop below. A shrill whistle from a blue quail rang out from a grassy bluff somewhere on the mountainside above them. It was answered from farther to the north by another quail, and then another joined in from somewhere farther to the west.

"There it is again. Look!" Danug whispered, his eyes catching another glimpse of the odd movement.

"That has to be the savages, I don't know of any herd animals that walk a shoreline like that." Ludeg said aloud, breaking the quiet of the dark morning.

"You stay here and keep an eye on them, I'm going back to camp to get them packed up." Ludeg continued, and turned to leave.

Danug was left alone in the darkness, and he felt a wave of chill bumps roll over him. The occasional glimpses became a little more frequent as the reflection of the moon stretched out as it retreated slowly. Ludeg was right, he thought to himself, it's them and they are coming fast. Without thinking, Danug gripped the long smooth shaft of his throwing spear a little more tightly.

**********

Nezzie and Latie sat near the fire with a small tea basket between them. They both had their sleeping furs wrapped around their upper bodies against the chilly, early morning air. Their young sons had demanded a first meal, now. Both boys trying to outdo the other with the volume of their voices when they woke up their mothers a little bit earlier. Being as concerned for the others as they were, both women had taken the loud little boys outside to the fire to offer them the ultimate comfort of the breast.

It was a rare moment for mother and daughter, to be alone together. They savored the opportunity, and spoke in soft voices while enjoying the moment. Latie and Nezzie had always been close, and as Latie had grown up and matured their bond had grown into a special kind of friendship well beyond the normal mother/daughter relationship. Nezzie leaned over and refilled Latie's cup, a wisp of steam rising in the flickering firelight.

The tranquility of the moment was shattered when Ludeg arrived, breathing hard and obviously bothered. He acknowledged Latie and Nezzie with a nod and paused just outside the flap of the tent to catch his breath before going in.

"Something's wrong." Latie whispered to Nezzie just as Bralut pinched her breast tighter in his strong grip. "Ow."

Nezzie grinned at Latie, and watched her daughter reach up under the wrap of the soft fur to pry the little boy's hand away from the tender skin. It was a bit of a struggle, Bralut had a good firm grip and was not letting go without a fight. Nezzie couldn't help but to think back to Danug when he was a baby, he had done the same thing to her often enough. The memory made her smile as she watched Latie wrestle with her own child.

A wolf howled from high above them somewhere on the mountainside, he was close, or so it sounded.

The tent was dark inside, the twin fires nothing more than glowing coal beds in the center isle between the two tent poles. Ludeg should have waited for a little bit before going on to allow his eyes to adjust, but in his haste he didn't and he stepped on Frebec's exposed, outstretched foot.

"What the..." Frebec mumbled, sitting up quickly, losing his sleeping fur in the process.

Fralie reached over in her sleep and tugged the fur back over her, disturbed by the sudden spate of cold air. Frebec shivered as he reached down to rub his sore foot, and tried to see who had stepped on him in the darkness.

"Sorry." Ludeg mumbled as he stumbled on through the tight, narrow walkway. He stopped at the large lump close to the nearest glowing bed of embers, and knelt down. His eyes were still adjusting to the dim light, and he felt around blindly with his hands until he inadvertently caught his fingers in Talut's beard.

Talut reached up with one hand lazily and rolled over at the same time, mumbling something inaudible in his sleep and smiling broadly. It must have been a good dream he was having.

"Talut, Talut wake up!" Ludeg whispered loudly as he got a grip on Talut's exposed bare shoulder. Talut mumbled again, and smiled all the broader, hugging himself with one arm.

"Talut!" Ludeg repeated, shaking the broad shoulder again a little stronger this time.

Talut's eyes opened, and he rolled back over onto this back. Ludeg's face was right over him, and he woke up quickly seeing him there.

"What is it?"

"Talut, get up." Ludeg insisted. "We have a problem."

"Ludeg, what's wrong?" Frebec's voice carried through the tent easily over the mulitiple sounds of snoring and loud breathing. He sat up rubbing his bare arms vigorously, it was cold in the tent without a tunic on.

Ludeg shook Talut again, then whispered loudly toward Frebec. "The savages are coming!"

Though his words were not spoken loudly, it seemed that almost everyone within the confines of the narrow tent heard him. Rustling of people coming out from under sleeping furs started all around him, and Ludeg grimaced. He had not intended to start a panic, but from the sounds all around him, he knew that he probably had.

**********

With the first faint glow of the dawn, Danug could finally see them. All of them. It was the Eastern Savages all right, and they were much closer than they should be. They must have traveled through the night, he thought to himself, at least through most of it.

The long line was still three men wide, and moving steadily along the waters edge. They stayed just within the dark line of wet sand, following it around the edges of the bay.

Danug jumped at the sounds suddenly right behind him, lost in thought, he hadn't heard the approach until the men were right on top of him. Branag put his hand on Danug's shoulder as they all spread out beside him, peering down and into the distance. It was quiet for a long, uncomfortable moment as the rest of them took in the scene down below.

"They will be here by mid day, maybe sooner at that pace." Brenan said, watching the steady progress of the curving line. A shiver started somewhere in his lower back and crept up all the way to his shoulders.

Talut stared at the long line as it wound around a dip in the beach, his face a hard mask of concentration and anger. He tried to count them, and gave up after a few tries. There were just too many of them.

"All right men, we've got things to do." Talut said, his voice suddenly confident and commanding.

"Let's get back to camp, Branag, you and Danug keep watch here."

**********

Camp was broken down in record time, and they were on the move. Talut had stayed behind at the top of the second tier with five other men. These men were chosen because they were the very best that the camp had to offer with the spear throwers. Each man had a full quiver of the small, lightweight spears.

The line of savages was still a good distance away, but it was closing surprisingly fast. Talut and the other hunters lay down on the cold rock at the edge of the bluff, watching over the edge, but well out of sight of the encroachers.

It was a long, hard wait.

**********

The narrow rock ledge was only wide enough for the travelers to walk two abreast now, three at the most. The sides fell of steeply to the sea below, and everyone kept a good distance back from the ledge as they moved on.

Vincavec led the fast moving procession, and did his best to push them as much as he dared. Each of the sledges had two man teams, this was a crowded and hard way to push the heavy vehicles, but necessary.

The path turned rather abruptly around a sheer wall of rock, and the flat walkway started to lean down toward the surf at an increasingly steep angle. The progression slowed to a stop for a brief rest as Vincavec went on ahead to check out the situation with Tulie.

"Wow, now what?" Tulie said, looking at the wide, steeply angled expanse of dark grey and black rock. At the far side of the dark rock, the ledge reappeared above the blue green sea below.

Vincavec exhaled loudly, he had never seen anything even remotely like this before, and for once in his life he had nothing useful to say.

The dark colored rock was shot full of small holes and was heavily rippled all the way across for as far as they could both see. The beginning edge of it dropped down a full step below them before stretching out across the incline of the steep face of the mountain.

Vincavec leaned over and hopped down nimbly to the rock below, and looked up the face of the steep rise. The wide black river of rock had no end to it, and as he turned to look down below them, he saw that it ran all the way into the sea. This will be one tough crossing, he thought to himself as he looked over the rippling dark rock. As he turned to climb back up over the jagged step, he noticed that the rock was course and rough and allowed for really great footing.

Tulie reached down and took Vincavec's hand to help pull him up. Vincavec grinned at her incredible strength as she pulled hard enough to actually lift his feet off the ground for an instant. They stood together, quietly contemplating their next move when a low rumble tickled the bottom of their feet. Vincavec's eyes grew wide.

**********

The line of savages turned slightly more southerly as they followed the curving beach. The first of the savages loomed out in front of them some two hundred paces. In another hundred paces, they would reach the first tier of the bluff.

"Who all can throw that far?" Talut whispered.

"I can, but it will be hard to hit what I'm aiming for this far out." Branag said, doing his best to judge the closing distance.

"Same here, that's a long way yet." Brenan echoed.

"I can do it, they're within my range now." Danug said confidently.

"Can you take out the leader?" Talut asked.

Danug thought about this as he watched the lead savage and how he moved, smooth and self assured. He stared hard, seeing more and more detail of the man as he eyed his every move. I can do this, he thought, I really can.

"Yes." His answer was simple, but very confident.

**********

Vincavec's smile disappeared as he felt the ground shudder beneath his feet again ever so slightly. He looked up the face of the mountain and suddenly a strong acrid smell wafted down on the two of them. A thin finger of smoke appeared from somewhere well up the steep rise.

"I think we need to hurry and get everyone across this." Vincavec said, still looking up.

"I think you're right." Tulie answered, wrinkling her nose at the foul smell.

**********

"We will both throw at the leader at the same time, the rest of you wait until the others gather around him, then cut loose." Talut said, his face a hard mask of concentration. "I want them to think there are a lot more of us than we really are. Throw your spears fast and furious, but hit what you aim at."

The other men all nodded solemnly, but Frebec was smiling. With all the hunting he had done with Mortan during this journey, he had developed into one of the most accurate men with a spear thrower. His presence here with the rest of the most elite of the hunters was something that made him proud all by itself. He didn't have Talut or Danug's incredible range, but his accuracy was amongst the best of all the men here, and he knew it.

"Talut, wait." He said softly. Frebec was never shy about giving an opinion, but he had learned to be more judicious with his choice of words to be less combative when he offered an opposing view.

"If we let them get a little closer, we can get the leader for sure. Then all of us will be able to be a lot more accurate, and it might scare them off. Maybe." His voice was measured and confident, but not condescending in the least.

Talut grinned, the idea had merit and he considered it silently for a moment.

"Frebec's right, we'll wait until they are closer." Talut went on. "I want everyone to take your time and be accurate. Let's see if we can take enough of them out to run them off."

**********

Rug lifted his end of the sledge up and over the rock, it was heavy and bulky even though over half the bundles had been removed. Draag and Tulie reached down and pulled on the wide crossbar from the top of the rock and as the sledge pointed up, Rug got a better grip and shoved up hard. The sledge slid over the smooth grey rock and back up to level ground. Rug took a deep breath, and he and Thorec turned to pull the next sledge up and into position to lift it over the rise.

The rest of the travelers were all resting, scattered along the sloping bluff of rock. It had been a bit of a tough crossing, but they had all made it with no real mishaps of any consequence. The men, and even a few of the women without children to tend to had all made at least two trips, carrying the many bundles removed from the overloaded sledges.

Rug and Thorec grabbed the front of the last sledge and man handled it up to the rock. A deep rumbling, coupled with a slight vibration in the ground gave them a boost of energy and they yanked the sledge over the gritty, porous rock.

Thorec grabbed the bottom runner, amazed that it still held together as worn as it was. He waited until Rug had a good grip from the other side, then the two of them lifted it up to waist high with a firm pull.

**********

"All right, listen up." Talut said. "Let's hit them two at a time, as soon as you let fly, step back and let two more take your place."

"Good idea, " Frebec said smiling. "They'll think there are a bunch of us that way."

"Exactly." Talut answered. "Everyone ready?"

**********

A muted boom rattled the ground, and a huge pillar of smoke appeared in the sky above the mountainside. They all stared up as the ground shook slightly and more noises that sounded like far away thunder came from deep within the earth.

Vincavec scowled, looking back across the dark strip of rock back to the north. There was still no sign of Talut and the others.

The ground shook again, and Tulie implored them to get moving on down the narrow rock ledge on to the south. As soon as the earth was still, they did just that.

"I'm going back." Vincavec said, turning on his heal and hopping off the flat rock and back down to the porous black river of rock below.

Tulie watched him, then turned back to prod the rest of them on. She looked up as another deep boom made the ground shake beneath her feet again. Another huge plume of smoke appeared, shooting high up into the clear blue sky. A shadow fell over them as the dark clouds expanded.

**********

Danug was right, he could, and did, hit the leader. The spear Talut threw sailed over the leader's head but caught a man a few steps behind him full in the chest. The leader was hit high in the chest, and dropped face first in the sand, writhing in pain and confusion.

Frebec had been correct as well, the attack had caught the savages by surprise, and they gathered around the fallen leader as soon as he fell. The next three waves of spears thrown caused mass panic as men fell and screamed all over the place. Spears flew and people died, and the wave of the encroaching savages started to break down. The tight lines broke down gradually, and the waves of falling spears took them deeper and deeper into full panic mode.

Talut's hunters were very accurate, and very few spears missed entirely. Many men fell, most gravely wounded at the least, and some dead by the time they hit the sandy ground.

Without their leader, it took longer than it should have for them to break off and retreat in full. When they finally did, they left over fifteen men behind.

"Let's go!" Talut commanded as Brenan and Frebec loosed another pair of deadly spears. "It will take them a while to figure out what just happened to them, and we can set up another ambush further up the bluff."

They all took off, except for Frebec who paused to take one last look down below. The last two spears both hit accurately, and two more savages fell screaming. The smooth, tan sand was now spotted with dark patches of blood and fallen men.

**********

"Talut!" Vincavec called out. "Talut let's go, come on!"

Vincavec waved his arms to get their attention, imploring them to hurry. The group of hunters didn't disappoint him. They veered directly at him, running quickly. As they ran toward Vincavec, a loud booming sound shook the earth at their feet. The ground shook and vibrated as a deep rumbling noise sounded.

Talut's eyes grew wide as he stumbled slightly from the twitching ground, and looked up to see a billow of black smoke blow high up into the sky. Much of the sky above the mountains was already dark with heavy dark clouds of smoke.

"Let's go, hurry!" He screamed out and his hunters obeyed.

**********

The fast moving band of hunters reached the south end of the rock path, and hopped down onto the wide expanse of black rock. None of them took the time to express their awe or wonder at the odd terrain, the ground was shaking and vibrating again.

A deep booming sound caused more than a few of them to fall to their knees and a huge fissure opened up between them. Brenan almost fell backwards into the rapidly deepening cleft, but Frebec grabbed him by the forearm and gave him a hard yank. Brenan fell face first onto the rough rock, opening a cut on his forehead that quickly bled into his eyes.

Salen and Branag were caught on the other side of the widening fissure. The ground groaned and shook harder as the crack expanded again with a scream of ripping rock. A jet of steam burst from the depths a little higher up the slope just above them, and shot up into the air to Branag's left, he winced in fear and moved downhill a few steps quickly.

Talut jumped at the white plume of steam, his eyes wide with fright and wonder.

Frebec screamed at Branag to jump across. "Hurry, it's getting wider!"

Branag and Salen both got a running start and leapt over the deep crack with all their might. Branag cleared the gap with a half step to spare, tumbling across the abrasive rock and coming to a sprawling stop at the bottom of a deep ripple in the surface.

Salen's foot slipped as his foot cover split wide open and tore full across as he planted his foot to jump. The jagged stone cut into the flat of his foot deeply and he screamed out in pain as he flew through the air. He hit the face of the broken stone, and grabbed at the sharp ridge with both hands. The rock ripped his cheek, and he tasted his own blood, hot and salty as he clung to the stone.

The mountaintop exploded as Talut and Frebec rushed to Salen, knocking both men to their knees. Hot gravel splattered all around them like rain, smoking and dusty, and hot, very hot. The abrasive rock ripped slits into their hands as both of them crawled toward Salen as fast as they could. Frebec reached him first, grabbing his forearm and hanging on with all his might.

Talut dropped to his bloody knees and grabbed Salen's other arm. He mustered his great strength and pulled Salen up half a body length in one try. The jagged rock scraped his chest and arms, but Salen kicked at the sheer wall of rock with his feet trying to climb out as he was being pulled. He felt his left arm drag across a sharp outcrop, and felt the blood running down into his armpit.

Vincavec was thunderstruck at what he saw. His mouth hung wide open, but no words would come out. A bright red, glowing river ran down the steep slope, coming right at them. Deep, grey smoke rose off the river of molten rock and darkened the sky. The ground shook again and he fell to his knees, swallowing hard, the bitter taste of the acrid smoke reached him well ahead of the flowing red river.

"Let's go!!!" He screamed, trying to get up on the shaking ground. "We got to get outta here!!!"

Talut pulled again, and Salen's knees touched the high ground. Frebec let go of his arm and wrapped both arms around his chest and pulled him away from the dangerous drop off. They both fell back onto the rough stone as Talut tried to soften their fall.

Vincavec's scream made them all look up, and everyone saw the rapidly encroaching molten river descending at them. Salen fell as he tried to stand up, the stab of pain from his mangled foot suddenly unable to support his weight. Talut wasted no time, and scooped up the full grown man and hefted him over his shoulders.

The rest of the group reached the rock bluff, and scampered over it onto the smooth, gentle sloping path above. Talut flagged behind, Salen's weight and bulk hindering him on the uneven surface and the still shaking ground. One of his foot covers ripped as he shopped over a deep ripple. The river of molten rock sped up more and more as it wandered down the steep slope.

"Come on Talut!!" Brenan screamed. "Hurry!!"

Talut glanced up and felt the heat of the glowing red river coming at him, he pumped his legs harder and faster and almost ran the rest of the way across. With a hard shove, he hoisted Salen over the rock and Brenan and Branag grabbed him and pulled him the rest of the way over. Talut set his feet and the ground shook again as he jumped up, he lurched over the edge of the rock. Steam billowed behind him and he kicked his legs over onto safety of the ledge.

**********

Tulie slipped on the smooth edge of the sloping narrow path, lurching to her left hard as her foot nearly slipped over the drop off. She went to the ground hard on her side, losing the two bundles she had tied together and wrapped over her wide shoulders and slung over her chest. As she rolled her body sideways to get back up onto her knees, she looked up ahead to those out in front of her. She was trying hard to get back to the front of the line, and was just a little over halfway there.

She bumped into the side of the Mog-ur who struggled with the weight of the two bulky skins of supplies he carried, and made it past him and Rymar who walked to his other side. It took her no time at all to get past Nezzie and Tessie, the two older women gave her room to get by and she hurried on forward.

Tathan and Matera led the exodus, with a small band of children at their heels. Brinan stayed at the rear of small group of kids, herding and prodding them on. Rugie held hands with Magie and Ooga, while Tonie held onto Tusie and Tasher. Crisavec carried skinny little Bectie on his shoulders, and held Tramen's hand as well.

Marsie and Martag followed the group of children several steps back, with Wymez and Gralon heavily burdened right behind them. Wymez slowed a little as the ledge rose up a little in elevation and the rock grew slick, hindering his footing. Tulie caught up with him, and reached out to steady him from behind. Wymez grinned, then worked his way on up the slick rock.

The ledge began to shake again, vibrating underfoot in undulating currents. A few loose rocks rolled down the steep rise and onto the ledge. The trees swayed eerily up the rise off to their left, and the leafless branches rustled softly and ominously. A few pine cone fell from a lone, tall pine as it swayed gently as if in a high wind. Dust blew off the slope in a light brown cloud that disappeared almost as fast as it had developed.

Matera lost her balance, and dropped to one knee to keep from falling forward and crunching the baby she had cradled under her wrap. Tathan stopped to pull her back up to her feet, and a deep booming sound began from deep within the mountainside.

The low pitched rumbling came toward the strung out band of travelers, growing louder and louder. The ground shook more, dislodging rocks from the steep sides of the cliff and they fell crashing down into the sea below. Some were large enough to send splashes of seawater all the way up to and over the steep ledge. The newly wet rock got even slicker underfoot.

Many on the ledge dropped or fell to their knees as the movements of the ground gradually increased, becoming even more intense. Everyone began to scramble away from the edge of the cliff. A large boulder broke loose from the side of the mountain well up the slope, sending a shower of gravel and flying rock downhill before it as it began its descent. It crashed into the side of a short tree with a surprisingly thick trunk with a bang, ricocheting off the obstacle and picking up speed as it turned back downhill.

Matera looked up suddenly at the sound, and screamed out to the children several steps behind her and Tathan. "Watch out! Get up here now! Hurry!"

Gravel showered the front half of the long line of people, rocks as large as a clenched fist pounded them for a long, excruciating moment. A cloud of dust and dirt followed, blurring their vision briefly.

Rugie cried out and started to tumble back off the cliff, swaying and fighting to bend back forward to no avail. Ooga's strong hand suddenly caught her by the front of her tunic, saving Rugie. Ooga pulled hard, and Rugie fell forward on top of her, out of danger.

As soon as she was able to flip over, Rugie looked back for Brinan and Magie. She screamed and lurched for the jagged end of the cliff, but Ooga grabbed her arm and held her back. Rugie screamed again, louder this time, her heart breaking.

Tulie screamed and ran forward to the jagged, newly reformed edge of the cliff, Wymez and Gralon were right behind her. She threw herself to the ground, looking down to the crashing sea below. The water was full of white with foam, and waves crashed all around where the sea ended at the cliff. Jagged rock from the fallen ledge was strewn out in a wide vee that disappeared into the surf.

There was no sign of Brinan or Magie.

**********

Huge billowing clouds of steam came off the water where the lava flow hit the sea. Water boiled loudly, hissing and spewing. The steam wafted up and enveloped them as the swirling winds off the ocean pushed the white clouds around erratically.

Salen hopped on his good foot between Danug and Branag. He had his arms over the shoulders of the two taller men, and they dragged him along faster than he could really keep up. As tall as they were, Salen could barely reach the ground most of the time anyway. Salen's face was streaked with blood from numerous small cuts, and his nose was swollen badly across the bridge. He could barely see the back of Brenan five steps out in front of him through the white clouds of heavy steam.

Brenan held a scrap of leather to his forehead pressed tightly to slow the flow of blood. His face was streaked with bright red rivulets that dripped into his short beard and splashed down onto the chest of his light colored tunic, staining it with long streaks of darkness. His hands and forearms were scraped up and bloody, the sleeves of his tunic ragged and shredded in several places. Vincavec hurried along beside him, tearing a piece of soft, de-haired leather with his hands that he had pulled from the pouch on his hip.

Talut led them up the sloping path, hurrying as much as he could. The ground still shook sporadically with tremors, and the slick rock offered little in the way of decent footing. His knees hurt, his hands hurt, his feet hurt, and he had Salen's blood splattered all over his face and beard. Talut's sore, bloody right foot slipped on the smooth stone, and he slid back a full step, bumping into Frebec close behind him. Frebec slid back at the impact, and both men struggled to regain their footing. Just as they did, the rumbling from deep withing the mountain began to get louder—and closer.

**********

Gralon screamed out Magie's name and dove down onto his belly roughly to the rock beside Tulie just as a huge splash of seawater splashed up from below. Tulie screamed down for Brinan, over and over. Gralon squinted through the sting of the salt water and looked down over the cliff and searched the rocky shoreline for Brinan or Magie. He thought he saw something dark off to the right, and leaned out a little farther over the edge.

Down below, Magie's head broke through the surface of the water for a brief moment, and her choking scream was cut off by the white capped wave that rolled over her. She disappeared again.

Gralon pushed himself back away from the jagged edge, and without stopping to consider the dangers, stood up and dropped the backpack off his shoulders. With a lunge, he took two hard steps forward and jumped over the side of the cliff. He fell five full body lengths straight down that seemed to take forever, before hitting the water awkwardly. Landing face first in a vicious belly flop, the impact of the water knocked the breath out of him as he went under.

The coldness of the water was a shock, and he kicked hard for the surface through the heavy currents that tried to pull him down and back out to sea. Gralon was gasping by the time his head broke through the water. He pushed himself up higher and looked around him, then heard shouting from above. Tulie and Wymez were both pointing to his left, a little further out to sea. Gralon stretched out his body, and floated up higher in the water and started swimming hard, still hearing the distant voices shouting at him.

His arms, legs, and lungs burned from the effort as he swam hard against the constant waves pushing back at him. The screaming from above grew fainter amid the crashing of the waves against the rocks to his left. Gralon slowed up and kicked hard, pushing his upper body as high up out of the water as he could, looking frantically for Magie. What he saw, incredibly, was the last thing he ever saw.

A huge black and white shape suddenly appeared directly in front of him, slipping soundlessly up and out of the water. The large mouth opened and all Gralon could see was the incredibly long rows of glistening white teeth in a sea of light pink flesh. The orca grasped him with his mouth, biting down hard enough to snap Gralon's spine and with a swift jerk of his head tossed his lifeless, limp body out to sea behind him. With a single swish of his monstrous tail, the huge orca turned to retrieve Gralon and swam back out into the bay.

Tulie and Wymez watched with horror as it all played out so quickly down below. They had seen the orca's approach, and had tried to warn Gralon, but he had obviously misunderstood them. Now he was gone.

They watched and searched the water, but saw no further signs of Magie or Brinan. The foaming waters had swallowed them whole.

**********

The mountain belched again, spewing a shower of bright red molten rock out in all directions. Dark smoke blew up in huge black clouds darkening the sky. Most of the bright red chunks hit the upper sections of the mountain, touching off small fires everywhere they hit the steeply angled ground. More smoke developed, heavy and pungent, draping the sides of the mountain in long, broken ribbons of varying widths and densities.

"Watch out!" Brenan called out as a bright red piece of molten rock hit the grey rock path just between him and Talut a few steps ahead of him. The molten rock splattered on impact, peppering Talut, Brenan, and Vincavec with burning embers. They all slapped at their tunics and leggings, then rushed on up the trail. Three small fires started in the grass to their left, fanned by the coastal winds blowing along the rise. Smoke and wet steam hung heavy in the air, twirling and thick.

They all hurried up the stone path, pushed forward by the smoke and hot, heavy air behind them. More droplets of lava fell down all around them again, urging them on faster, harder. Eyes burning, lungs full of hot, stifling air, they pushed on through their weariness and pain.

There were more fires breaking out on the mountainside above them now, scattered and growing. The mountain boomed out again, pouring more heavy dark smoke straight up into the dark sky. An evergreen near the edge of the path burst into flame near the top of the tree. The deep green foliage popping and sputtering as the fire grew rapidly, smoking heavily.

Talut started coughing as he pushed on up the trail, the winds swirling around the side of the mountain, constantly shifting direction and intensity. The smoke was hot and thick as it streamed past him, then dissipated a bit and he took a deep breath. He could hear Frebec coughing and sputtering just behind him, and was glad for the brief break in the smoke. Talut glanced back, but saw little past Frebec but blowing blue-grey smoke.

With a sharp crack, a good sized limb broke off the evergreen, dropping a flaming limb into the middle of the stone ledge just out ahead of them.

**********

Tulie was white faced as she hurried the long line of people on. Helping them cross what was left of the narrow rock ledge. Tulie had no words for Nezzie as she passed, it just wasn't the time, and Nezzie knew nothing as yet. Nezzie could see that something was wrong, but with the dangers of the fires on the sides of the incline above them, she couldn't take the time to stop to ask.

Tulie doubted that there would be enough width left in the rock path for the sledges, but was pleasantly surprised when Rug slowed and looked it over. He pushed on through slowly, the sledge just narrow enough to hang on the edge of the rock with little problem, as did Ludeg and Troog after him.

She lingered for a moment after the last of them passed her, looking back for any sign of Vincavec and the others. It was hard to see through the steam and smoke, but the sporadic glimpses she got yielded nothing.

Tulie turned and started following a slow moving Wymez, tears streaming down her cheeks. A large flake of light grey ash landed on her face, and when she looked up, it appeared to be snowing ash. It was everywhere, swirling and floating erratically on the changing winds and thermal currents.

**********

The burning evergreen tilted and a dry pop rang out as the tree crashed to its side where the ground had been solid only a moment before. The earth ripped as a fissure started well up the incline and tore the ground in a narrow slit running downhill fast. When it hit the ledge, the rock bed cracked and a small section of it collapsed overboard. When it hit the ground, the fire spread rapidly through the greenery of the tree. Multicolored smoke boiled from the tree, rising up into the heavy breeze as the bright yellow fingers of flame rose upward.

Talut and Frebec pushed the single burning limb over the cliff with the ends of their spears, and the rest of them followed through the smoke and back onto the path beyond.

**********

Matera stopped, and looked down the long flat slope. The ledge had been getting wider and steeper in its descent for the last few hundred paces, and now it petered out all together. A wide spatter of brush grew at the top of the slope along a long, narrow rock ridge that ended with bright tan, wind blown sand that ran all the way back down to the beach below. Tathan took a deep breath, then looked back to see the long line of people catching up to them.

"What do you think, should we try following the ridge over to there?" Matera asked as Tathan studied the terrain. The mountain above them belched up another cloud of heavy smoke, light grey ash fell all around them.

"Looks as good a way as any, let's try it." He answered after a long moment of thought, then pointed to a particularly gnarly bush off to itself to the east. "Over there it is, let's go."

Matera nodded, then rearranged Lumie under her tunic, allowing the squirming baby girl to latch onto a nipple. She looked back to the group of kids, all of them had lifeless, hurt looks on their faces except for Rugie who openly sobbed while clutching the hands of two smaller children. Matera made a motion for them to follow, and stepped over the edge of the rock and into the gravel of the ridge with Tathan beside her.

When they reached the edge of the narrow ridge, they suddenly realized that the sand was light and fluffy. Matera's first step sunk deeply into the warm sand, and her feet quickly went out from under her. She sat back and then slid down the long, gentle slope on her butt. The kids all got a kick out of Matera sliding down the hillside in the soft sand. Fresh bits of color creeping back into their ashen faces as they watched and heard Matera squeal all the way down.

Tathan helped Rugie and Tasher over the edge of the ridge next, and they followed Matera's path down.

**********

Brenan stopped long enough for Vincavec to tie the wide leather strap he had been preparing around his forehead. They had to run to catch up to the trio of Danug, Salen, and Branag when Vincavec got it secured. Brenan's head ached, and the tight wrap of leather didn't help the pain at all, if anything it only made it worse.

Talut saw Troog and Ludeg struggling with a half loaded sledge well up ahead of him through the thick tendrils of smoke and falling ash. It lent him a brief spate of fresh energy, and he hurried them along to catch up with the others.

When they reached the drop off at the rock ridge, Talut laughed aloud when he saw. Troog and Ludeg were hanging on to the sledge as it slid sideways down the long slope, sand puffing from under their bodies as they went downhill. The beach down below was a welcome sight, clear from smoke as the winds pushed it all towards him and the others catching up to him.

By the time Brenan and Vincavec had caught up, Talut was over halfway down, whooping and hollering as he slid through the loose sand on his back. Both men stared with open mouths, then cracked up as Talut began to turn and was eventually sliding down backwards by the time he hit the bottom.

Danug and Branag put Salen between them and held on to his arms as they stepped onto the soft sand together. It almost worked, but when Danug's left foot sank deeply and slipped out from under him he let go of Salen's arm and rolled over onto his side, and started downhill that way. Soon enough, he was rolling out of control, head over heels all the rest of the way down.

Brenan turned back and looked up the long, steep mountain. He couldn't see all the way to the top from here, especially with all the smoke and falling ash swirling in the wind clouding the wooded side. Dark clouds of ash and smoke darkened the skies.

A fleeting thought crossed his mind, now the eastern Savages would never be able to follow them. Brenan smiled to himself, then blinked as a piece of light grey ash landed on his nose. He reached up to wipe it away, and smeared a wide streak of light grey across his blood stained face.

A smoking mountain, he thought to himself, if I never see another one it will be too soon. He took one last, long look then turned to pick his way down the gravelly ridge behind Vincavec.

**********

The sand at the bottom was more like they were used to near the seashore, more densely packed and much easier to walk on. The extra packs and skins of supplies were packed back into the three remaining sledges. Emotionally and physically spent, loose groups gathered to relax and get a few moments rest, they all knew that some distance had to be put between them and the smoking mountain.

Tulie was still mentally in shock, and clung to Barzec. He held the much taller woman close, and when she lowered her head to his shoulder, he began whispering in her ear. She listened intently, nodding every now and then, her large body trembling. After a while, Tulie pulled herself back and looked down into Barzec's deep brown eyes. She loved this man so much, and he always knew how to help her deal with her deep, strong emotions that as a co-leader she often had to keep buried. Tulie had experienced loss before. Ever since she had lost her co-mate Darneg all those years ago, she had tried to harden her heart against these intense feelings of angst. It had worked rather well, usually, until now.

Barzec got her seated in a comfortable place away from the rest of the slow moving camp, then went around gathering up specific people. He asked them to join Tulie and to refrain from asking questions until everyone was there. His last stop was with the Mog-ur, and he was grateful for how much of the sign language of the Clan that he had unconsciously absorbed throughout this trek. He actually communicated pretty well with the spiritual leader of the Clan, and walked away content that his thoughts were known and understood.

**********

Nezzie sat between Talut and Marsie, cradling Manut to her breast, moaning softly. Rugie sat in Talut's lap, staring blankly straight ahead. Jaycie sat next to Marsie with little Tonie on one knee and Tramen on the other, Tonie had her head buried in Jaycie's shoulder.

Deegie held Brydag close to her chest as Branag wrapped his huge arms around her from behind. She almost collapsed when she heard the news, and might have fallen over if Branag hadn't been supporting her from behind.

Tulie barely got the details of the story of the tragic events out, her voice laced with quivering, heart wrenching emotion. She broke down, unable to continue several times during her recounting the story, but she persisted and eventually got it all out. Fat tears streamed down her cheeks as Barzec held her from behind, silently sobbing himself.

Druwez sat staring down at his feet, Brinan was just getting old enough to do things with, and he regretted everything that they had not done together. Now he would never have the chance to make it up to him, his shoulders shook with the stark reality.

Children had been lost, a man of the hearth was gone, and nothing that anyone could ever say would even begin to ease this terrible loss and pain. There was a huge hole in Tulie's sizable heart, her middle son gone, never to return. It was a finality that no mother could ever totally accept or begin to understand.

Nezzie was as distraught as Tulie, all their combined children had been raised together. In a very real way, both women had lost a son just as all their siblings had lost a brother. Manut wriggled and lost his nipple, he cried out in frustration. He wasn't alone.

**********

Matera and Vincavec patched up the injured near a small, hastily built fire, a basket of hot water between them. A bowl of yellowish liquid antiseptic got a lot of use as both of them worked on Salen first, he had the most cuts and scrapes.

Latie sat next to Brenan, stirring a batch of herbs into a small basket. She mixed a calming tea to try and ease the suffering that Tulie and Nezzie and the rest were going through. Almost as an afterthought, she added some more ground datura and then a hefty pinch of rose hips to help to mask the bitter taste of the added datura. Latie had a hard time focusing through her tears as she worked. It was times like these that she almost hated being Mamut, all she really wanted to do is sit and cry with the rest of her family. She would be strong, though, her position demanded it.

Brenan held her around the waist, holding their sleeping son cradled in the crook of his other arm. He looked down on the face of Bralut, gaining a measure of peace and tranquility just by looking at him. What would it feel like, he wondered, to lose this precious boy. The very thought absolutely crushed him.

**********

Mog-ur walked slowly into the midst of the grieving, he wore the large plaque with the stylized mammoth side out on his otherwise bare chest. His face was a hard mask, completely devoid of emotion as was usually the case with those of the Clan, but his deep brown eyes glistened with intense feeling and an almost total understanding of the situation.

He walked directly to Tulie, and held out his hand. Tulie looked at the short man of the Clan, blurry through her tears, then reached out and took the offered hand in her own. Mog-ur pulled her toward him, then embraced her, his powerful arms pulling her body tightly against his own. Tulie accepted, then returned the embrace, trembling against the old man as her emotions peaked again.

After a long, quiet moment, Mog-ur gently broke the embrace. He looked up into her swollen, red eyes and took a step back and signed slowly and eloquently for all of the gathering to see.

'When "Mut" calls, one must answer, always. Not just at the end of a long and fruitful life, but whenever you are called, you must go.' He paused, then continued.

'Leave the ways of "Mut" to "Mut", grieve the loss of your loved ones, but celebrate their lives. Remember, this was the life that you gave them, the life you shared with them. One day, all things will become clear and their meanings known. Be patient, for on that day we will all understand, but until then accept what has happened with the strength you all already possess.'

Tulie nodded her head, and stepped back up to him and pulled Mog-ur back to her, hugging him hard. She lay her head across the top of his shoulder, her tears dripping down his back. Everyone else in the small circle dropped their heads in thought, slowly digesting his signs through Tornec's broken translation. Mog-ur's words made it all somehow easier to deal with, at least it took the sharp edge of anger off their strong emotions. All except for Rugie, who stared blankly ahead.

A deep pitched boom rang out from the mountaintop behind them. Then another explosion blew more red streaks of molten rock high into the air, cascading out in all directions in a brilliant display through the darkening sky. Heavy dark clouds hung low, and ash continued to swirl and fall.

The ground everywhere was beginning to slowly change colors as the light ash settled, it covered them all, streaking their travel stained clothing and dirty skin. The dark clouds began choking off more and more sunlight, cooling the air in the coastal winds.

Another blast from the mountaintop, and two fresh rivers of lava slowly appeared. One on each side of the first that still flowed steadily. More fires erupted across the steep face of the wooded landscape. Smoke rose up from all over the tall mountain, spreading out and growing.

Mog-ur grunted, garnering the attention of the group gain. 'We must move on, if the winds shift we could be trapped here.'

Tornec translated, and Talut stood up and issued commands.

**********

It took a while to get the ragged, tired band back into shape to move on. The experience on the mountain path had taken a lot out of them, physically and emotionally.

Salen could barely walk, his foot had been cut full across and he could put almost none of his body weight on it at all. Talut was limping badly from a cut on his own foot, but the huge man would admit to no undo hardship, bluntly informing all who asked that he was just fine, thank you. Danug had twisted his knee when he cartwheeled down the hill of soft sand, but like Talut limped on refusing help of any kind. Salen allowed Branag to help him, leaning on his friend as they walked on.

Rug positioned Troog on one sledge, Draag on another, with himself on the last. Draag was strong enough to handle it, at least for a while. Rug wanted to take the heaviest burdens off the others, at least at the onset of the next leg of the journey. They had experienced enough hardship for one day with the loss of three of their own, he figured, knowing exactly how they must feel.

Matera wrapped Talut's foot with a soft skin soaked in the yellow antiseptic solution, then wrapped it all with a thick, wide piece of bison skin. It would help him to be able to walk a little easier, but there was little she could do about the pain it would cause him other than the datura concoction she insisted he drink.

"Well, it's not nearly as good as my bouza, but it will do." Talut told her with an infectious smile as he swallowed the last of it.

Matera couldn't scowl at him as hard as she tried. She was tired, flustered, and felt all her own losses as acutely now as she had when she had first seen her own home camp destroyed. The loss of these three travelers brought it all back—again. It had all been so hectic since she had left the Sturgeon Camp for her brief visit to Vinvacec's new Cave Bear Camp. So very much had happened since then, she had never really taken the time and mental effort to completely deal with it all.

Lumie cried out, and Matera looked up from Talut beside her to see Vincavec walking up with the baby cradled in his arms. Her heart wounded warmed at the obvious love in his eyes as he tickled Lumie's bare belly. The child stopped crying to coo at him, reaching up and trying to grab at his evasive finger.

Matera took a deep breath, gathering her worn emotions into check, filing the strong feelings away for another, more opportune time. She stood up and took the sweet baby girl from her mate, kissing her face repeatedly from forehead to chin before untying her tunic and putting her to the breast.

Vincavec caressed the blond fuzz on top of Lumie's head as she latched on to a nipple, Matera leaned over and kissed his colorful cheek. Life does indeed go on, she thought to herself, feeling the incredible warmth of Lumie's small body against her own. Matera somehow took an incredible surge of strength from this small, perfectly formed infant in her arms that depended solely on her for her survival. For a moment, life made more sense than it had in a long, long time.

**********

The shoreline looked to curve back to the south out in front of them, breaking at a long rock formation a day or two ahead. The mountainous terrain to the east looked to be slowly diminishing and leveling out, the high peaks softening into blunt, more rounded tops. The tree cover on the hillsides increased as the steepness of the sides of the mountains gradually gentled. A spattering of seasonal growth trees and evergreens, the evergreens looked to be getting smaller in size while the leafless trees grew larger.

The grass was changing as well. The shorter, light tans and browns slowly evolved into thicker stemmed clumps of taller, lighter colored grasses of several different types and species. One type stood out against the others, shorter and broader of leaf, this grass covered the ground in large, unbroken patches. There was even a little light green mixed in with the tans and browns on the lowest parts of the hillsides.

Out in the waters of the bay, large rocks broke the surface in several, scattered places that looked to be part of a long, sporadic line running at an odd angle through the bay. Dark in color and generally large, they provided safe havens for an abundance of life. Seals, otters, and huge turtles used the scattered islands for homes and places to rest from the sometimes rough, white capped seas. The rocks channeled the waves, breaking their force and calming the waters further as they passed the formation and eventually washed ashore. Sea birds of all kinds perched on the higher, dryer rocks. Herons, gulls, sea hawks of several varieties, ospreys, and the tall, magnificent pelicans stood majestically, high up on the rocks.

The sands were also changing, slightly at first, then much more predominately. More and more, dark courser granules were mixed in with the finer sands. This changed more as they worked their way westerly around toward the bend of the shoreline. The new sand mixture was even more abrasive than the smoother tan sands had been, taking its toll on their foot ware as well as the sledges.

**********

It was a rather subdued bunch that finally stopped to make camp for the night. The sea breeze was rather strong and gusting, and the sands seemed to stay wet all the way into the base of the hills on the west side. The hillside was rocky and jagged at the beginning of the incline, rising abruptly after a small ridge of dark grey rock. The beach itself was rather narrow, the tide lines pushing up perilously close to the rocky, short bluff. After considerable thought and discussion, the main traveling ten was placed at a right angle to the sea, close to the short rock rise. A rock lined fire pit was dug out and provisioned in the wind break created by the tent, half way down the length of the long of it.

The Clan women took on the responsibility of preparing the evening meal, with Inca overseeing the effort. They were masters at making the very most of whatever food stuffs were available. They soon had a huge hanging skin of stew going after the fire had settled down from the initial rush of being lit and burned down low enough to get close enough to it to go to work. A large shimmering coal bed developed quickly, heating the water in the hanging skin efficiently as ingredients were constantly added.

**********

Tulie walked along the shores alone, the strong coastal winds whipping her long dark, grey streaked hair away from her face. The empty feeling inside was stronger than it had ever been before, and she needed to be alone. Her large, usually strong body quivered almost uncontrollably. Weak from the draining trek of the day, weaker still from the loss of Brinan and the other two. Tulie felt so very alone, so incredibly small and defeated.

A sudden gust of wind almost blew her over, she staggered and with a conscious effort, planted her feet against the onslaught and stood up straight with a great, awkward lurch. Tulie steadied herself and walked on, every step more of an effort than the one before. Her tears were gone, there were none left to shed. Her heart ached, but at the same time, it felt somehow completely numb. All of her felt numb, she didn't even feel the sharp coldness of the wet winds coming off the water.

Tulie walked until her legs would take her no further. She dropped to her knees in the wet sand, then pitched forward onto her face. Tulie sobbed without tears, her body wracked with strong convulsions as she rolled over facing the darkening sky.

After a while, Tulie had no idea of how long it had been, she slowly regained her composure. The wet sand under her started growing cold, her clothing was wet and clammy. She stared up into the sky, dark now with the first stars beginning to sparkle in the sea of black.

Tulie was spent, empty of every last human emotion. Her mind slowly explored all she had been through and seen in her long life. Her beloved Darneg, and his untimely demise from the terrible hunting accident. So incredibly senseless, so totally unnecessary. This void that had never been filled at her hearth, created and sustained by his absence.

Of Old Mamut learning of the impending threat of the raiders, then going on into the spirit world himself the very next day. A man she had know and loved all her life gone, gone forever just like Darneg.

The violent death of Worlen, killed by a rhinoceros on that fateful journey to go out and face the raiders that Chaleg had put together. The awful massacre that had ensued when they had actually faced and then defeated them. The sights and sounds of the dead. The smell of death that would forever be a part of her.

The second encounter with the remnants of those evil raiders that threatened them again shortly after they had met up with the Clan. The screams of the dying in that well planned, well executed ambush that finally destroyed them all. The sickly sweet smell of death.

The first encounter with the awful people that the Mog-ur had called the Eastern Savages. The loss of a very pregnant Aba, and old Manuv. Gentle, kind Manuv. She had known him all her life as well, it was impossible to believe he was gone too.

Now this, her own son dead. Gone. Killed by the mountain itself. Killed by Mut herself. What did it all mean, what could possibly be the purpose of taking Brinan and Magie. Innocent children, their lives cut so very short. What could Gralon possibly have done to deserve to die like that, eaten by a monster fish? How insane it all is.

Brinan gone. The emptiness inside, the void that was rapidly swallowing her alive.

Tulie closed her eyes, unable to clear her mind, unable to get up. No amount of inner strength remained, nothing but a feeling of total resignation, total defeat. Nothingness. She was so terribly tired...

'Tulie stop it.' The voice came from the deep darkness of her mind, or was it a dream? 'We live, we love, we struggle, we bring forth life, we lose our loved ones---but we go on.'

The voice was firm inside her head, and commanding. She listened in spite of her want to flee, to be alone.

'If you keep this up, you will die. You will die and all you have gone through, all you have accomplished will cease.' The voice became vaguely more familiar, and it continued on with increasing fervor.

'Druwez needs you, Tusie needs you. Your responsibilities as a mother and a leader are not yet fulfilled. Barzec cannot do this alone, Talut cannot lead effectively without your council. You are a strong Mamutoi woman, a leader and a mother.

'Kiss Brinan goodbye, let him go on to the spirit world and be with Darneg to await you. They will wait for you, you need not go to them now. You are needed here, now, still. Be strong, be like a rock, be the Tulie that I know and love. Go on, live your life, don't quit now. Never, ever quit.'

Tulie felt a single tear run down her cheek as she slowly woke up, or was she really ever asleep at all? A single shooting star crossed the sky, flaring brightly. Then it was gone, fleeting in its short, bright life.

Thank you Mamut, Tulie thought to herself, thank you. She rolled over and sat up, her wet clothes clinging and cold against her skin, her wet hair pressed against her face. Tulie stood up, her legs feeling stronger, more secure. She pulled her hair back and turned to walk back up to the camp, the faint light of the fire glowing over the top of the long tent.

A slow movement from directly in front of her surprised her, he seemed to appear from nowhere, rising up from the sand. It was Barzec, and he waited patiently for her to reach him. When she reached him, he simply held out his hand. Tulie took his hand and she smiled at her thoughtful mate, and together they walked back up toward the camp.

To the left, the smoking mountain was still faintly visible through the darkness, the three rivers of lava still flowed.


	27. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty One**

_**The Plateau**_

"Talut, Talut come quick!" Mortan's voice was laced with youthful enthusiasm as he ran toward Talut and Vincavec who stood off to the south side of the area chosen to camp for the night.

The smooth grassy open space with brush and small trees surrounding it was a perfect camp site. It was almost completely level, an oddity on the gentle rise they had been climbing for the last several days. A dead tree was stripped of limbs for s bench while the rest was chopped up for firewood. A bright blueish green moss covered one side of the trunk, and many of the smaller branches. The moss put off a lot of smoke when ir burned.

Talut couldn't help but to grin at the youngster as he ran up to them, he was such a joy to watch. The quiver of spears rocked from side to side across this back, and he held his favorite spear out to his side. By the time he reached them, Mortan was red in the face and gasping for breath.

"Talut," he gasped as he skidded to a stop in front of the two men. "You have to—to see this. Come on!"

Talut put a hand on Mortan's heaving shoulder, grinning broadly. "All right young hunter I'll come, show me the way."

Vincavec went with them, and Mortan tried not to run as he led them up the gentle grassy slope toward a thick stand of trees fifty paces or so away. Trees with deep green leaves.

Green grass, green leaves, bright colored wild flowers, all sights that hadn't been seen for a long time were all around them. The land was changing rapidly.

**********

The last full moon had seen the band of travelers finally clear the rocky, mountainous terrain along the seashore. The high, uneven ground to the east slowly dropped back into a long series of much lower hills with slight valleys, and the woods that had been so plentiful and thick actually thinned out considerably as the hills declined. It was here that the landscape began to slowly change colors.

Making the best of difficult walking, they actually made pretty good time around a vast, low, broad marshy flat that sent them farther due south to steer clear of dark brown, sticky mud. With stagnant, smelly water on one end, and clear blue sea water on the other, it was a strange place indeed. The marsh was refreshed daily by high tides, then drained slowly back down through the rocks that made a dam on the western side. Here on the eastern end, the dense clouds of huge mosquitos and small, quick flying, hard biting green flies plagued them every step of the way.

The marsh had been surrounded by brush and short, thin trees with wide, broad leafed branches that dragged the ground, and bugs. Lots and lots of bugs. Long thin vines with small, plentiful dark green leaves clung to the trees and brush, bridging the small gaps. Leeches were everywhere in the water and near the shores, dragonflies flew all around, lighting on anything and everything, and mosquitos. More mosquitos than anyone had ever seen before. Even the strongest smelling salves the healers cooked up couldn't keep all of the biting pests completely at bay. Snakes and freshwater crabs, otters and beavers, and some odd type of short, very quick antelopes were all seen. The marsh was a small world unto itself, teeming with life.

A large stand of cane grew on the south side of the marsh, and the strong, thin poles were harvested and used to make new runners for the sledges. Flexible when green and easy to bend under pressure and steam, they made very adequate, smooth runners. When dry, they held their new shapes well with only a few reinforced straps of soaked leather.

Brenan and Danug harvested a thick bundle of thin cane poles, they wanted to try and see if they would make adequate spear shafts for the spear throwers. Light and strong when dried, they were easy to straighten as well. It would make for an interesting experiment, and the tool makers couldn't resist making the effort. Good ideas often came from odd sources, or so they told each other as they worked.

**********

On the south side of the marsh, the seashore turned sharply to the southwest again. The ground became rocky and hard to traverse, small ponds of fresh, stagnate water dotted the entire area. The path they walked was forced into constant twists and turns around the ever increasing obstacles, and making good time became a futile effort.

Wymez suggested they head on due south to stay clear of the many hardships that slowed them in these lowlands. They took his advice, leaving the shorelines behind. The immediate terrain changed dramatically with the new course. The grasses quickly thickened, turning into varying shades of green, and the land began a slow and gentle rise. Often, the rise would level out for a while before leaning upward again. These small steps of level ground gave them all time to regain their strength for the next incline.

Three days past the marsh, the underbrush grew more dense and the gentle rise started growing steadily steeper. The flat spots were decreasing, and for two days straight the rise was continuous without a break. By the fifth day, they well into a thinly wooded forest of short trees that slowly began choking out the majority of the heavier brush.

In a few places, small clearings broke up the scattered ground cover that gave way to colorful seas of wild flowers. Mostly white with hairy looking stems and leaves with fat little yellow pods of seeds near the center stems, low on the odd looking plants. When the bright flowers were picked, a bright white liquid oozed from the brittle, bright green, hollow stems. The healers gathered several for study later on, none of them had ever seen this variety of flower and their curiosities were piqued.

The traveling was relatively easy for a while, even as the incline gradually increased in steepness. An abundance of rabbits, hares, squirrels, and marmots made it easy for Brug and Mortan to keep the daily stew skins well supplied with fresh meat. Often, they made kills while walking just in front of the leaders. Rug called it their simple 'flush and spear' technique. The boys were both extraordinarily accurate, they did get a lot of practice, and it showed.

Firewood and dead fall was easy enough to gather as they walked, and the days slowly grew warmer and warmer. Even at night now, the cool breezes no longer held the chill that they had on the mountainous seashore from before. Warmer clothing was packed away and lighter, summer wares brought out and worn regularly. During the heat of the day, most traveled bare chested.

The night sounds had changed as well, wolves seemed less and less populous but there were more hyenas. Many more. Their cackling and high pitched, ominous laughter rang out through the darkness most nights from just before dusk until well after dawn. In the mostly constant brush and tree cover, the hyenas mostly stayed completely out of sight during daylight. Roaring and screeching, different species of cats pronounced their hunting prowess on a nightly basis. Many making sounds that were not easily discernable, strange and odd variations of the sounds that were more familiar to the travelers. These lands were different, and so was its inhabitants.

**********

Fresh water ponds formed in the dips of the incline, and runoff creeks continued to be numerous, as was the thick black mud that surrounded them. Few of the creeks were very deep, and all were relatively easy to cross, but the black mud was slick and stuck to everything.

The rise continued to increase slightly in elevation, but as gradual as it was it didn't really slow them up much at this point. This was a group of well conditioned people now, hardy and tough from the challenges they had faced on this incredible trek. The increasing heat and stifling humidity took its toll though, and many more rest stops were taken to appease the older camp members and the mothers with babies.

These numerous rest breaks gave Brug and Mortan more time to hunt and explore. And hunt and explore they did.

**********

"Right over this rise, you won't believe it!" Mortan said over his shoulder, glancing back to make sure Talut and Vincavec were still right behind him. They were.

Mortan slowed down to a slow walk, and dodged around a wide, berry covered bush.

Brug was there, hunched down behind another bush, peering over the top of it and down into the valley below. He gave Mortan a stern look, then turned his eyes back over the top of the bush. Mortan slowed and hunched over as he slowly crept forward. Talut and Vincavec followed him, ducking down as well.

They were on the edge of a rather abrupt bluff, and down below was the most incredible sight any of them had ever seen.

A huge, flat, grass covered meadow spread out for several days walk before ending at a wide, deep blue river with heavily wooded banks. Between the edge of the bluff and the river, the ground was dark with herds of several different species of large grazers. In several places, they were so thick and numerous that no ground could be seen beneath them at all. There were more animals in this one place than any of them could have ever imagined possible. Ever.

"Holy Mut!" Talut whispered softly.

"Wow." Vincavec echoed.

"See, I told you." Mortan whispered smugly.

'So, how do we hunt them?' Brug signed, a very serious, excited look on his face.

It was quiet for a long moment, this was a sight that was hard to believe even while looking at it. They all studied the scene, trying to take it all in. It was hard, really hard to do much more than stare in awe.

The nearest herd of animals were almost black. Strange looking, wide flat horns grew downward at an odd angular curve that turned up towards the ends with broad shoulders and thick bodies. They had faces that looked vaguely like that of an aurochs, but weren't quite as large in body overall. In fact, their bodies were shaped more like a bison than an aurochs, heavy at the front and tapering off to the back of the animals. There were a lot of smaller yearlings intermixed amongst them, almost always keeping inside the safer confines of the group, though a few ranged out at the edges of the huge herd. This was definitely the largest herd, and there were so many of them that it boggled the mind.

Another odd looking herd was near the first group, further to the west. Striped horses. Brilliant white with coal black stripes and short manes that stood straight up, they were absolutely amazing. This group was spread out in a line ten to fifteen animals thick, grazing peacefully. A few of the larger animals, probably males, stood just outside the main group keeping watch with a wary, wandering eye. They had to be the most beautiful horses Mut ever created, had to be.

A large group of hyenas lounged near the edge of the woods closer to the river to the south. Most curled up in sleep, with a couple standing guard out on the outskirts of the pack. A few worked over the remains of a scattered, torn up carcass of some kind from their meal from the night before. There was a sizeable gap between the hyenas and a small herd of light tan colored antelope looking animals.

The male antelopes had the strangest horns, they were actually rippled along the bases of the horns. Growing up from the tops of their heads in a curving, spreading vee, the horns looked to be shaped into gentle spirals. The short fur on their sides faded from a light tan to almost pure white as it reached their bellies, growing longer and shaggier there. The females and young had no horns, and they all stayed close together as they grazed.

Southeast of these strange antelopes, a large pride of lions lounged in the shade of a single, lone tree a little way up from the edge of the thin strip of woods that bordered the river. A single male sat in the center of the pride, surrounded by young and a single large female. He was huge, his thick, dark mane making him look even larger and more formidable than he already was. Nine or ten females hung out at the edge of the shade, a trio of young bounding all around them. An adolescent male and a female just a little younger than he was sat off to the east by themselves, well past the comfort of the shade. The grazers all gave them a wide, respectful berth.

Southeast of the lions and off to themselves a bit, seven large mammoth with two young tore up large clumps of grass. The lone male had tusks that were almost as long as Talut was tall, gently spreading out from his mouth then curving back closer together toward the ends. They used their trunks to grasp the green clumps, then beat them against their shoulders to knock off the excess dirt. Their fur was so short that they looked naked, in fact the only real fur that could be seen was gathered at their bellies. Their huge ears were in almost constant motion, flapping away flies and fanning themselves in the heat of the late afternoon sun. It was possibly the strangest sight in the meadow.

To the northeast of the huge black herd, another smaller groups grazed off to themselves. Large, streamlined animals that were mostly light tan with a dark stripe running the length of their backs and along the undersides of their bellies and all the way down their long, thin tails. Shaped like a cross between a red deer and a moose, they had a powerful muscular structure and long thin faces of black and white. Their single pair of horns had ridges running the lengths of them, mostly straight and tapered, and slightly swept back over their heads in a wide vee. They looked sharp, very sharp. These thick bodied animals looked fast, very fast.

Talut looked down at the slope of the edge of the plateau. His thoughts were turning away from the abundant wonders of the land, and quickly onto a way to get at all that potential food. The bluff was both abrupt and gentle at the same time. It dropped off over four times as far as Talut was tall back down to the level ground below, but the drop off wasn't really a cliff at all. It was actually a grassy knoll, long and steep but not completely impossible to get down by any means. Getting back up would be no easy feat, but it could be done, surely he thought. There were a few thick stemmed bushes here and there, and even a few short trees along the edge of the bottom. Mostly though, it was tall, thin leaf green grass swaying softly in the breeze.

Vincavec stared down in total, mouth dropped wide open awe. If he could have sorted out all of his random, fast moving thoughts he might make sense of all this, but it wasn't going to happen. Not yet, anyway. It was just all too much for him to comprehend all at once, way too much. He almost felt like a young apprentice Mamut all over again, filled with awe and wonder at all the new things before him.

Brug and Mortan had more questions they wanted to ask than they had ways to ask them. Mortan's hand actually quivered around the shaft of his spear, and Brug had already planned two different ways to hunt one of the vast herds below. Both plans were good, he knew, and either would work easily. He had not doubted his own abilities since he had taught himself to throw two gaff tipped spears in rapid succession, and he had no doubts now.

Talut's mouth watered. There were more potential meals in one place than he ever dreamed possible. I think I'm going to like this 'Land of the Sun', he thought to himself with a wry grin and twinkling green eyes absolutely full of mischief.

**********

Brug peered around a thick bush a step in front of him, he was sure he had heard something, but couldn't quite make it out. There are a lot of odd sounds around here, he thought and stared forward, trying to catch any movement, any movement at all. He held his spear out to his side, ready to pull it up into throwing position if needed. Taking another small step, Brug reached up and pulled down a leaf covered branch and looked through the small opening it created.

Mortan hung back a few steps, his head cocked to the side, listening intently. He heard something too, and couldn't decipher it either. The two hunters moved almost as one, they were so accustomed to each other it was as natural to them as breathing.

Druwez stayed ten paces or so back behind them, well armed and just as quiet as he followed. He was interested in their methods of stalking and hunting, rarely had any hunters enjoyed the measure of success that these two had shown on an extremely regular basis.

They had been working their way down the edge of the plateau for quite a while, to the southeast. They were well away from any sign or sounds from the huge camp gathering they left behind at the edge of the drop off. It was mostly quiet here, but the gusting breezes rustled through the tree tops and bushes enough to keep them paying constant attention. Odd bird whistles and chirps consistently came from the heavier tree cover from north, off to their left. A few even odder sounds rang out on occasion from a much further away, sounds none of them could even begin to identify. All in all, a was a little bit spooky, these lands were different.

After the initial rush from seeing the teeming life down below the plateau, Druwez volunteered to go with the restless boys. The adults all brain stormed on how to take advantage of the abundance below, and looked to be at it for a while. There were a lot of details to be considered, methods to be dissected, and Druwez still felt a little left out when it came to hunt planning discussions. With the loss of Crag, Rug or Troog usually went with Brug and Mortan, but they were both heavily involved in the planning session, as they should be.

Ever since the tragic loss of his close cousin Brinan, Druwez had become a bit of a loner. It took him quite a while to come to grips with the intense feelings of lost opportunities when it came to him. So many things they could have done together, would have done together, should have. So much he could have taught him. What would he have grown up to be like? Would he have been a little on the quiet side like me, he wondered, or would he have ended up more talkative and outgoing like Branag or like Danug was getting to be?

Druwez finally decided that he would not allow anything like that to happen again. He would get closer to Brug and Mortan for starts, and he would watch over them and protect them as best he could. Besides, these kids were fun to be around, they were very serious hunters and treated with the upmost respect by the rest of the camp, something Druwez craved for himself. Brug and Mortan had earned the respect they garnered, and there was no reason I couldn't begin to do the same, he figured.

Mortan quietly slipped up behind Brug, and looked over the left shoulder of his slightly shorter hunting partner through the top branches of the bush. Nothing moved but the leaves of the trees and the swaying of the taller clumps of grass in the slight breeze. They watched patiently, neither moving at all, but taking in everything before them.

Past the bush, a wide clearing of very green, mostly short grass spread out before them with several tall, springy looking clumps poking up in places of some other variety of grass. Two tall trees were some fifteen paces further southeast, with several small scrub trees at the edge of the drop off to the right. The two tall trees were heavy with medium sized leaves and had wide, thick branches. Branches that spread out far from the trunk, creating large circles of dark shade in the short grass below them.

'I can't see anything, you?' Brug signed, turning his wide body slowly to look back at Mortan.

Mortan shook his head slowly, then stepped to his left and knelt down at the far edge of the wide bush. He leaned around the bush and peered forward again through the ends of the leaves.

The sound seemed to be coming from the far side of the two trees, an occasional rustling or scratching sound and some low pitched grunts. Brug took a deep breath, and motioned for Mortan to move on. They went around each side of the bush and continued forward a few paces apart, slow and easy through the small clearing.

Druwez gave them a moment, then followed. He was amazed at how stealthy the young hunters could be. They stayed low to the ground and completely silent as they moved forward. When they got close to the pair of tall trees, they split up, Brug heading toward the center between the trees and Mortan circling around to the left side. Druwez paused at the bush to watch, tall enough to easily see over it unobstructed.

Brug stepped into the dark shadows, and moved through the thin bed of dead leaves with the very slightest of scrunching sounds. He slid his lead foot sideways to clear a place before setting his weight on it, a method Crag taught him. It worked supremely well, his footfalls were almost, but not quite, indiscernible.

Mortan slowed as he flanked the trees to the left, keeping Brug even with him as both boys worked forward. He stopped as a low snorting sound came from their right side. Again the scratching sound, more fervent this time, and being closer, it narrowed the direction of the source considerably.

Brug pulled a second spear from the scabbard strapped diagonally across his back, holding it in his left hand as he raised the spear in his right hand up and into throwing position. Mortan aped him, and then moved a few more steps forward, slowly and cautiously into the shadows.

Druwez moved around the bush and into the clearing, stepping slowly. When the boys pulled out extra spears, Druwez pulled an extra spear out for his spear thrower and got ready to back them up.

**********

"...we should probably figure out a good way to get down there—and then back up again first." Talut said, grinning to the huge gathering all around him.

The late afternoon sun was beginning to cast long shadows from the thickly leafed trees. The gusting breezes were cool, but dusty tasting as they blew in over the herds. The river was dark with shadows from the tree cover on both sides, and a lot of animals broke from the larger herds into scattered, smaller groups to get a drink before the sun set.

"Talut! Talut look at that!" Branag said excitedly, pointing down below. Everyone at the top of the bluff watched as an amazing sight played out before them.

A single spotted cat trotted gracefully along the shadows of the trees at the river, he was tall with a small head and an extremely long tail that drooped low to the ground. The large herd of dark, almost completely black, cross between an aurochs and a bison split into a wide, open path to give the tall cat plenty of room to get through. They all stood facing the opening, watching the cat's every move with their heads low and horns pointed at him. The cat looked from side to side nonchalantly as he trotted through the respectful opening, veering slightly more northeasterly toward the smaller group of odd looking antelope with tall spiraling horns. There were three adolescents in the small group of twenty five to thirty, and they started getting skittish as the cat got closer.

The moment the cat sped up into a graceful lope, the antelopes took off. The antelopes turned back out into the open grass, holding themselves in a pretty tight group as they cleared out and away from the river. The cat seemed to instantly hit top speed with a single bound of pure acceleration, suddenly closing on the antelopes with a quickness unlike anything any of the campers had ever seen before. His long body stretched out as his gait smoothed into an incredible speed with his tail flowing straight behind him. At a dead run the cat's size showed for the first time, this was a large, long animal. In absolutely no time at all, he closed the gap and caught the rear of the fast antelopes. He was so fast he appeared to be almost a blur of motion.

The spotted cat reached the back of the small herd, splitting them in two as they veered away from him. One of the younger antelope took a little too long to decide which way to go, zigging first to his left, then back to his right. The cat caught up to him with a lurching change of direction. In a single leaping bound, the cat tackled him, wrapping his long front legs around the antelope's neck and biting down on it from the side at the same time. The antelope stumbled under the sudden weight and impact of the cat hitting him, sprawling to the ground in a small cloud of dust. The pair rolled over once, scattering the dust into a small cloud. Just that quick, it was over.

The nervousness of the grazing herds slowly dissipated, and the antelopes slowed and reformed into a single group again some distance away to the east. The long gap between the dark bison looking herd slowly filled back in, and more of them worked their way toward the river for a drink. Life went on down below again almost as if nothing had happened.

"I don't believe what I just saw." Brenan mumbled, his eyes open wide at the spectacular show that had just been performed. "That cat was so fast I almost lost sight of him."

"Now that was true speed, wow." Talut thought aloud. "Wow."

Silently, everyone at the ridge agreed with them both. It was a spectacle none of them would ever forget, ever.

**********

Brug caught a glimpse of movement, and instinctively raised the spear tip in his left hand up slightly. Mortan froze in place at the subtle motion, and shifted his attention to where Brug stared.

Just inside the circle of shade, between two exposed tree roots, a light tan and black streaked furry patch moved. Brug took another few steps, angling himself to get a better look. Mortan moved closer as well, flanking whatever it was farther to the left side. The fur moved again, its upper body wiggling as it dug rapidly with its front feet. It made a funny, deep pitched sound as the animal grunted repeatedly in a low, deep voice.

Brug was close enough, and stopped and raised his spear. He glanced at Mortan, still moving into position around his left, and waited. Mortan was in good shape some ten paces later, and looked to Brug as he raised his own spear up, then nodded. Brug focused back on the light fur, and aimed carefully. It wasn't a large target, and it was in the midst of the some of the darkest of the shadows, he took a deep breath and focused sharply before letting the spear fly.

Just before the spear reached the target, the animal ducked his long head further down and rooted around a little deeper this time. The spear nicked the tuft of bristly fur, and the animal screeched and came out of its digging posture with a fast footed lurch. Blood splattered off the top of his shoulders, spilling down onto the short tan fur below and he took off. Right at Mortan.

Mortan let fly, misjudging the burst of speed shown by the fleet footed, short, hump backed looking creature. The spear flew just over his head, causing him to duck and bound back to his left. He picked up speed, going between Mortan and Brug, both boys with their second spears in position. Brug reared back and threw hard, the spear glancing off the side of the animal's long, angular head just behind the flopping ear, taking a chunk of flesh with it. The animal flinched, bounding away and gaining speed. Mortan let loose another spear of his own, but the animal jerked to his right just before the spear would have impaled him. It was a clean miss.

Lowering his head, the tan animal lurched right again toward the trees to the north. Every few bounds he changed directions slightly, zig zagging away so quickly he was a difficult target at best. Druwez' lightweight spear caught him full in the side, shattering ribs and penetrating deep as the impact knocked him off his feet into a tumbling roll that snapped the lightweight spear shaft with a dry pop. As the wounded beast tried to regain his stance, Brug's hard flung spear knocked him back down again with a hard, deep shoulder hit. Grunting and squealing, his legs continued to run as he spun around in the grass.

In a moment, the three hunters were at the animal's side, and Brug reached down and stepped on the side of his head to hold him still and slit his neck to finish him off. It was a really odd looking animal. The basic body and cloven feet looked mostly like a pig, but the head was shaped in a long vee, narrowing toward the rounded nose. A scraggly spate of course hair stood straight up and angled back from the wide nostrils, but flared out at a flat widening of the skull before it reached the level of his eyes. Its deep brown eyes were inset in this wide bulge that ran full across his face, and had tall, wide opened ears with strands of thin, white hair inside them. The black that started at the base of his head ran only down the center of his back for a little way. The darker strands of fur dissipating into a light blonde as the thick mane thinned toward the rear haunches of his back side. It ended with a long, thin, spindly tail. A tail that had a little tuft of tan fur at the end of it.

The three of them stared at the odd build of the stocky animal, marveling at the burst of speed and agility it had shown. Brug and Mortan both had stern looks on their faces, both of them bothered by the misses they both thrown. The success of this hunt was on Druwez' shoulders, something that the two of them were totally unaccustomed to.

'He was fast.' Druwez signed, grinning. 'I was lucky he veered into spear, I thought I missed.'

Mortan grinned back up at the older hunter, and grinned at his admission. The edge came off Brug's hard, angry face as well.

'Was good shot, "Dru-ess", a hard hit. Deep.' Brug signed, giving Druwez the complete credit for the kill. He reached up to pat Druwez once on the shoulder.

'Hope is good eat, sure is ugly.' Mortan signed with a broad grin and a chuckle.

Druwez looked back down at the animal, it was ugly. He started laughing, softly at first, then harder as Mortan joined him. Brug's deep chuckling made the other two laugh even harder, it wasn't often that Brug laughed at all, and the sound of it was amusing all by itself.

Brug pulled a small axe mounted on a short bone handle from his belt, and walked back into the shade of the trees. He looked around for a moment, then hopped up and caught a long, low hanging branch with his right hand. His stout, muscular body dangled in the air as he reached up and whacked the branch in front of his hand hard with the axe blade. On the third swing, the branch cracked and slowly swayed down to the ground. Brug dropped back to the ground, and began stripping the small, leaf covered twigs off the limb. He got the twigs removed, then hacked off the ends of the branch and carried it back to the others who already had his feet tied together with braided twine.

They loaded the bush pig onto the bare limb, dangling upside down, and started back to camp. Brug led the way, with Druwez and Mortan sharing the load of the strange looking creature that was heavier than he looked.

**********

Branag and Danug tried to traverse the hillside, but the short grass was slick and the angle was very steep. Even barefoot, Branag only made it five careful steps over the edge before starting to slide. When he thrust his left hand out against the hillside, it accomplished little. Danug made it four steps. Branag's feet went out from under him and he hit down on his butt and back, sliding most of the rest of the way down the slope before he finally stopped. Danug came within a whisker of crashing into him, sliding a few feet further before he came to a stop as well. They were now very close to the bottom.

Though concerned, those still at the top of the bluff couldn't contain their laughter at the two large men careening down the slope, whooping and hollering all the way. The moment they hit bottom and it was obvious that neither were hurt, and the real hilarity of the situation hit them all hard.

No one laughed harder or louder than Talut. He leaned over with both arms wrapped around his huge chest, hee hawing. Tears ran from his eyes and snot from his nose, and he couldn't have stopped laughing if a rhino had suddenly appeared to gore him. It was the absolute funniest thing Talut had ever seen.

Things were almost as funny at the bottom of the bluff. Danug sat with his knees crossed in front of him, wrapped tightly with both arms. His back was burning from the slide, his tunic had ridden up and a large portion of his lower back was scraped up and raw. What a ride, he thought, still chuckling.

Branag lay on his back, staring up at the incredibly blue sky. His eyes watered, and his mouth was fixed in what just might be a permanent grin. His back was sore, when he fell, the scabbard of spears had jabbed him pretty hard in a soft spot in the middle of his lower back. Laying still, he realized that nothing was poking him now, and for the first time since he stopped sliding, he got a little worried. Branag flexed his right hand, no spear there either. He sat up.

Danug squeezed his eyes tightly shut and took a deep breath to try and stop his chuckling. It took a couple of tries before he got complete control of his laughter.

"Danug, do you have any of your spears?" Branag asked tentatively.

Danug had no spear in his hand, and he reached back to find no scabbard strapped across his back either. He sat up and looked around him, nothing was close by or obvious.

"No." Danug looked back over his shoulder to where Branag was getting to his feet carefully.

"This could be bad, look." Branag said, pointing off to the south.

Danug followed with his eyes, seeing three female lions trotting slowly in their general direction. A wide clear path through the black bison looking animals framed their approach. They were big, healthy lions.

"Talut, we may have a problem." Frebec's voice brought Talut's head up from between his knees. He still sat on the ground clutching himself.

Talut got to his feet, and walked quickly over to where Frebec and Vincavec stood a step back from the edge of the bluff. When he reached them, the reason for their concern was easy enough to fathom.

Branag spoke quickly to Danug as he turned to peer up the rise. "Keep an eye on them."

About halfway up the slope, a single spear was stuck into the grass at an odd angle, but Branag had to search for a while before he spotted a scabbard. The grass was mostly mid calf high, and he finally spotted a small crease in the wavy grass a dozen steps or so up the rise. He saw another small hint of a crease a few feet higher up to the right, that has to be them, he thought to himself. Branag exhaled loudly, wondering just how he was going to get up to them.

"They look like they're interested in us." Danug said, his voice having an excited edge on it. "Any signs of our weapons?"

Branag didn't want to answer, but knew he had to. "Yes, but they're still on up the hill a way."

"That's no good." Danug answered without looking back. The three lionesses veered a little more to their right, and were now heading straight at them, no doubt about it. Danug wondered why they looked so confident and secure, then he came to a conclusion. They must have seen animals fall off this bluff before, that would make for some easy pickings, he figured. The thought gave him no comfort, the lions would see them as easy prey.

Branag dropped to all fours and tried to scramble up the rise at a long angle. He made it a few steps, then as he moved up a little straighter up the rise he started losing traction. He slid back a few feet, and he pushed upward again. This time he made it a little further, then the heavy clump of grass he grasped came loose in his hand and he slid back down again. By the time he stopped sliding, he was lower than where he had started originally. He took a deep breath, and tried again.

Kicking his toes hard into the hillside, he gained a little better grip and tried to stab his fingers deeper into the soil as he ascended slowly. Hand over hand, one kicking step at a time he climbed the rise slowly. This method worked a little better, and he did make some real progress.

Branag got a fresh grip and paused to look up to find that he was almost up to the closest crease in the grass where he thought one of the scabbards of spears could be. He lurched upward with both feet, and stabbed hard at the grassy hillside with both hands as his body stretched out. At first his grip held, but then his toes lost their hold and started sliding back. When his body weight hit his hands in full, his grip was lost and he slid back down again, raking his face all the way back down. When he finally came to a stop, his cheek burned. We're in trouble, he thought, I'll never make it to the spears in time.

Danug took his eyes off the lions for a brief glimpse back when he heard Branag sliding. This is bad, he thought, turning back toward the lions.

Both men at the bottom of the hill looked up at the sudden spate of hollering from above. What they saw made them laugh aloud, even in the perilous situation they were in.

Laying on their backs, Talut, Brenan, and Frebec all slid down the hill feet first with a bundle of spears across their bellies, held tight. The grin on Talut's face was absolutely infectious. The wide eyed fear on Frebec and Brenan's faces was just about as funny. They came down the hill fast, right at them, bouncing along erratically.

Brenan took Danug down in a heap as the large man tried to jump over his prone, fast sliding body. He almost made it, but caught his foot on the bundle of spears and hit the ground hard. The two of them slid downhill a little further before coming to a laughing halt.

Frebec slid up to them, laughing uproariously. His fear was overcome by the thrilling, rather bumpy ride down.

Branag sidestepped Talut as he past, and he just kept on going. He hit a bump and actually went air born for a brief moment before landing hard on his sizable butt. When he came to a stop, he roared, dropping his grip on the bundle of spears and pounding the ground with both hands. This was enough to keep the rest of them laughing.

"Guys, we'd best get ready." Frebec's voice was soft, but it was enough to settle the rest of them down as they looked to see the lions getting closer fast. They were now coming at them at a fast trot.

Brenan whipped his knife out of his belt and cut the straps holding the spears together, and Danug did the same to Frebec's bundle. In a few moments, all of them were well armed with extra spears suck into the ground beside them. They arranged themselves in a wide vee formation, and faced the encroaching lions head on.

Talut watched with a hard expression on his face. This was not the first time he had faced down lions, but he felt the butterflies in the pit of his stomach as much now as he ever had. He glanced to his left, then to his right. His hunters were in position and ready, and looked just as jittery as he felt.

"All right, let's let them get close enough to get good, clean shots at them." Talut commanded. "I don't want to run out of spears."

This brought nervous smiles from his cohorts. None of them wanted to take on lions without spears either, not for any reason. This thought caused them to focus intently on the coming threat, and suddenly nothing else mattered.

Just before Talut was about to give the command to let 'em fly, a strange thing happened. A salvo of spears, lightweight spears from spear throwers, rained down on the lions from above. Only two made contact, but the ground was suddenly spiked with a half dozen spears. The five men all looked up the hillside, and saw a line of hunters all rearing back for another throw.

Neither lion was hit in immediately deadly places, one in the hip and the other high on her shoulder. The second salvo was a little more accurate. All three lions were hit, and one dropped shortly thereafter with two spears in the back, one of them having snapped her spine cleanly. The lead lioness faltered, hit three times now, her strength waning with a severe and sudden loss of blood. The lion following her started to veer off to the left, three spears sticking out of her magnificent body. She twisted her head, biting the shaft off one of the spears and threw it angrily aside.

Talut took a couple of strong steps forward and let fly with a powerful cast. The spear wobbled for a moment in the air before straightening out and flew gracefully and deadly toward the retreating lioness. It caught her full in the side, the impact shattering ribs and knocking her down hard in the grass, dust rising up around her as she struggled to get back on her feet.

The lead cat hit the ground face first, scattering a cloud of dust all around her. The hunters all watched, and as the dust cleared, relaxed for the first time. She was a goner, as were her partners.

A cheer went up from the top of the rise, spear throwers held high in triumph. The hunters below returned the cheer, waving their spears in salute. Just that fast, it was over. At least for now.

**********

Brug heard the loud voices, and wondered what was going on up ahead. He picked up the pace slightly, still watching carefully all around the three of them as they continued back. Brug walked into the shade of a large tree, leaves crunching underfoot. He glanced up into the lower branches of the tree, and jumped back quickly with a startled look on his face. With a fast gesture, he jerked the spear in his right hand to the side twice, then stabbed up with the spear like a lance.

Druwez and Mortan stopped quickly at Brug's sudden motion with the spear. They watched his every move while pulling their own spears up and preparing to drop the pole with the tan pig between them if necessary. What he did baffled them, stabbing up into the low hanging branches with real force.

Brug got him on the second stab, the spear tip going all the way through the huge snake just a hand's width behind the large head. He gripped his spear and started pulling at the snake, trying to pry him off the branch, but the snake was strong and wound around the branch strongly. Brug tugged at him again, pulling the neck of the snake free about the length of his forearm. He was then was surprised when the snake lifted his head and actually picked Brug up off the ground a little bit. As soon as Brug's feet touched the ground again, he yanked hard and almost half the snake's body pulled free of its grip in the tree. Brug pulled again, his strong arms rippling with the strenuous effort.

Mortan and Druwez both dropped the pig off their shoulders, and were coming forward when they saw the snake for the first time. Freezing in their steps, they watched as Brug wrestled the snake the rest of the way out of the tree. Brug stomped on the snake's head, and held his spear steady with one hand while he pulled his knife from his belt with the other. He reached down and cut the head off the huge snake, whose body wiggled and slapped at the ground erratically. Brug jumped back to let the snake wiggle and hopefully die.

When the snake's movements finally slowed, all three of them approached him and watched. This guy was huge, and almost halfway down his long body he had a sizable lump that stuck out oddly from his long, streamlined form. The main portion of his body was a light brown, with a splotchy pattern of darker brown, asymmetrical spots that interconnected. A narrow vee of light brown began at his severed head, splaying wide as it reached back past the head and intermixed with the splotches. The belly of the snake was almost white as bone, with flecks of light and dark brown scattered throughout the length of him.

Brug stepped forward and grasped the snake a little way back from where he cut the head off, and Mortan grabbed him near the end of the tail. The snake defecated in a smelly spew, and Mortan dropped him and jumped back until he finished. He grabbed the snake again, and the two hunters picked him up off the leafy ground. He was heavy, and as long as both boys together were tall, maybe longer.

Druwez pulled a coil of braided cord from a pocket on his belt, and together they strung the long snake to the pole in several places and started back to camp again. Brug continued to lead, even more cautiously now than before.

**********

Brenan and Frebec stood guard while Danug, Branag, and Talut dragged the three lions back closer to the base of the bluff. The lions were heavy and cumbersome, and by the time they had all three of them where they wanted them, all three men were huffing and puffing. Brenan and Frebec ran out and gathered up the spears, they were easy to find, sticking up tall in the grass from being thrown from such a high elevation.

It didn't take long to get the lions skinned out, claws removed and several teeth pulled for trophies. So far, no other animal had shown any real interest in the men, but the huge herd of black bison looking animals had moved a little further east, clouds of dust in their wake.

"Well, now how do we get back up?" Talut asked, chuckling as he peered up the long, grass slick bluff.

No one had an immediate answer, and the gusting winds and the distant bawling of the grazers were the only sounds to be heard for a long, uncomfortable moment.

"Good question." Frebec said, his butt sore and throbbing from the bouncing descent.

**********

Of all people, it was Rug and Mog-ur that came up with the best way to get the five men back up the grassy bluff. When the three young hunters returned with the odd pig and the huge snake. Mog-ur noted how they had hung the body of the snake in several places to carry it back, he mentioned it to Rug, noting how clever the method was. Rug saw the implications and possibilities immediately, surprising himself.

A pair of braided ropes were tied together and looped on one end to make it long enough to reach down to the men below. They got it all ready, then tossed it over the side of the bluff. Rug stood out at the very edge and signed down to them with huge, flowing gestures as to what he wanted them to do with the rope.

Brenan watched carefully and understood the instructions, turning to fill in the others. He put the loop under his arm, leaned back and walked up the steep incline while being pulled up from above by Troog and Rug. The powerful men of the Clan pulled the weight of a single man up the rise easily. The rope dug painfully into his armpits and upper back, but the walk up the hill was actually quite easy this way, despite the slickness of the grass.

The rest of them followed in much the same way. Danug lost his balance once and slid onto his face but the taught rope stopped him abruptly, but other than that it was all pretty easy.

It took a couple of extra men to assist Talut's climb, and he had to endure constant, good natured catcalls from Danug and Branag the whole way, but he made it up without mishap.

**********

Wymez and Mog-ur were much in demand for a while, naming and teaching about the odd animals was something that only they were capable of doing. Mog-ur called the snake a python, and Wymez called the pig a suidae. Wymez also gave names to some of the animals down on the flats. The black bison looking ones he called buffalo, and the antelope with the wavy, vee shaped horns he said were called impala. These names sounded as strange as the animals themselves looked.

When Wymez was unable to name the swift spotted cat, the Mog-ur closed his eyes and searched his memories for a long, quiet moment of deep concentration. When he opened his eyes, he looked at Wymez and made a slow, deliberate sign before speaking the name he had dug out from deep within his memories.

'Is swift cat with spots called "chee-tah"?

Wymez grinned as it all came back to him. "Yes, that's it. It is a cheetah. How do you know so much of the wildlife here?"

'I do not, but Clan memories run deep.' Mog-ur had a distinct twinkle in his eye as he went on. 'Clan are a most ancient people, but wildlife stays the same. Same animal, old name.'

A large crowd was gathered around these men, and everyone caught the humor in the Mog-ur's words. A general discussion ensued, mixed language of spoken words and signs fluidly moving back and forth. Tornec kept up his translations pretty well, and Mortan helped to fill in the gaps. Virtually every hunter stayed put and contributed, all anxious to learn as much as they could about these new, strange creatures.

Lots and lots of questions were asked. Many received short replies, or no answers at all. The unknowns only seemed to be increasing.

**********

Inca grunted loudly, and jumped back from the front end of the huge python. Her eyes were wide with fear and surprise, and her hands shook so hard she dropped her knife in the grass. She and Latie were slicing it down the center of his belly, looking to meet at the center of the snake. Latie doubled over in laughter at Inca's sudden uncharacteristic lurch and loss of face.

The lump in the belly of the snake turned out to be a large owl, with big, wide open eyes staring out at her. It made its sudden appearance as she cut through the thin, muscular membrane of the snake's stomach. It was enough to startle anyone, and Latie tried hard to explain that to Inca---after she finally got control of her laughter.

Mog-ur and Etra stood off to the side, watching the two women skin the snake. Mog-ur was asking Etra a series of questions about curing the hide of the snake, and Etra shook her head 'no' a lot to his numerous queries. It seemed she had no actual experience, or even memories she could call on in this regard.

Danug wandered over to take a look at the suidae, Tulie and Marsie were just getting ready to skin it out, with Ova standing by to work the hide. Little Ooga was standing between Tulie and Marsie, holding their specially shaped pair of skinning knives for them. She was always helping the women at their chores, with her deep brown eyes sparkling with constant youthful enthusiasm. Ooga brightened the mood wherever she was, with her infectious attitude, it could be no different.

Off to their right, six women and two men worked the lion skins, scraping the undersides with flint tools designed just for that purpose. Nezzie had her thread pulling kit beside her on the ground, and Manut clutched securely at her large, bare breast. She wanted to sew up the spear holes before they started to stretch the hides in earnest, and waited patiently for her turn.

Danug joined Mog-ur and Etra, and gathered they were having some kind of discussion about the python. He watched them sign back and forth, amazing himself at how much he understood of what all they were saying.

A slight chill ran over his bare arms and up the back of his neck, something in one of the facial expressions Mog-ur made during the conversation made him think of Rydag. It had to be the sparkle of Mog-ur's deep brown eyes as he cocked his head, he thought. His face got a little red as it was apt to do at times, especially when he thought back to the sickly little boy that he had grown up with. Danug always got a little teary eyed when he thought of Rydag, he had been such a pleasure to have around. When he looked back up, Mog-ur was watching him, studying him, like he could see deep into his very soul. Danug grinned a tight lipped, embarrassed little grin, covering his momentary lapse as best he was able.

"Mog-ur", I hear can cure snake hide by boiling in salt water and fat.' His signs were a little jerky, but very understandable to the older man who was getting more and more used to interpreting badly signed Clan language.

Mog-ur looked over to Etra who thought for a moment, then nodded her head in an indication that this was indeed a possible plan. She had no better idea to offer anyway, what could it hurt, she thought. Mog-ur looked to Danug, seeing that he was serious, and made a subtle gesture to Etra that meant simply, 'try it'.

The suidae was more muscular and solidly built than the pigs that they knew and had hunted before, but it had less of the usual meat masses in the rear flanks. The front shoulders were heavy with lightly marbled fat running through the outer areas, and the back strap was thick and wide. All four legs were heavily muscled and full of thick, bright white stringy tendons. The skin was tough on the top and sides, but softer and more pliable all through the belly regions. The hair was course and stiff, especially in the center of his back where the rough, two colored mane ran from the back of his neck down that faded out just before the rump.

Ova fingered the skin from one end to the other, this would be a real challenge to make anything worthwhile out of this, she thought as she examined it. The inner layer of membrane was a little thicker than a regular pig, she thought, I wonder if that matters in how it's cured. Her lumpy eyebrows were wrinkled in concentration as she looked and felt how the skin changed so much from the underside on up.

A large platter quickly filled up with thinly sliced, bright pink meat. Tulie and Marsie worked over the bloody carcass while Ooga worked on one of the two back strap muscles. The young girl was very deft with the long bladed flint knife that Wymez had made for her, slicing the long strip of meat at a long angle into fairly thin slices. It took a very controlled stroke and a sharp knife to create such uniform strips of meat, and Ooga was good at it. The more evenly sliced the meat, the more uniformly it cooked. Tulie glanced at the girl often, admiring her diligent work.

Latie and Inca were having a more difficult time of it with the python. They finally had the skin removed and rolled up off to the side. The innards were stripped out and in a small pile with the light grey owl staring back at them eerily, but now they were stuck. Neither of them had any idea what to do next. All the meat was wrapped tightly from the center of the spine, bulging out and down over the outsides of the ribs in a thick but tapered slab. Latie watched Inca try to slice between the ribs to separate the meat, but it was a clumsy effort. Latie tried herself, using the knife at a different angle, but realized quickly that this way would take forever.

After a few more modified efforts, both women looked at each other for guidance. It was obvious that neither had come up with the solution, so Latie decided to try something new. Latie screamed out as the long meat covered skeleton wriggled when she poked her knife through a particularly thick portion of the meat at the center of the body. Inca jumped up and took a few steps back in a panic, with Latie on her heels.

Danug looked over at the two of them at the sound of Latie's sudden squeal, and couldn't help but laugh at their antics. He walked the rest of the way over to them, chuckling at their red faces and heaving chests.

"What's the problem, ladies?" He asked, still grinning broadly.

"That snake isn't dead—it just moved!" Latie gasped.

Danug laughed again, as Brenan rushed over with Bralut cradled securely in the crook of his arm.

"What's wrong, are you hurt?" He asked as he arrived. Bralut saw Latie and smiled as he stretched his pudgy arms toward his mother, the loving keeper of the breasts.

Latie laughed, her face still red. "No, but that snake doesn't know he's dead yet, would you mind telling him so he'll quit moving?"

They all laughed, except for an extremely white faced Inca who wasn't sure she wanted to skin another snake—ever. She looked down to where she had dropped her knife in her haste to get away from the vile snake, nope, she thought, it can just stay there for all I care. Inca scowled at her last thought, that was the finest knife she had ever owned.

Latie washed the blood and slime off her hands with a wet skin she pulled from a basket of fresh water, and took Bralut who went straight for her chest. He was already quite deft at getting between the front overlap of her tunic, and showed his skill by getting his mouth wrapped around nipple in no time at all.

"You two can handle the rest of this, my boy is hungry—again." Latie said laughing as Bralut bit down a little harder than he really needed to. She winced, and pinched the underside of his fat thigh, getting a full mouthed smirk in return from the fuzzy headed infant.

Danug reached down and retrieved both the women's knives, and handed them back. Latie smiled and wiped the blade clean on the wet skin, but Inca took hers with a slight nod, and turned and quickly left.

"We'll finish this up," Brenan said, watching Inca walk away in a rush. "Go on and relax. Feed this hungry, growing boy of yours."

Latie kissed his cheek and walked back toward the central fire, prying Bralut's hand off her free breast. His grip was strong, and he had a real tendency to squeeze too hard these days. This little one is growing up, she thought as she finally got his hand loose.

Danug pulled his knife out and dropped to his knees beside the long body of the snake. He looked up at Brenan and nodded his head for him to join him. Brenan sat down cross legged beside him, studying the snake. Both of their eyes went wide as the carcass moved slightly, as if it were gathering itself to crawl away.

"That is enough to get your attention, all right." Danug said softly, watching the body slowly stop.

"You ever done this before?" Brenan asked.

"Yes, there are two ways to prepare a snake for the cooking skin." Danug said as Brenan pulled the long bladed flint knife from the sheath on his belt. He reached down and held his knife at an angle to the rib cage of the snake.

"You can get the blade next to the ribs like this, then slice the bulk of the meat off with a long, angled stroke." Danug demonstrated the necessary stroke with the faceted, deep grey blade without actually cutting. Then he changed the angle of his knife and continued.

"Or you can slice it into sections like this." He showed Brenan a direct cross cut technique, trailing the tip of the blade across the snake. "You have to work the point between the bones of the spine, but they come apart pretty easy. Watch."

Danug slid his knife between the ribs and into the whitish flesh. The long body moved again at the cut, and his eyes opened wide again. Danug sliced through the sides, working his blade between the ribs, from each side stopping at the top of the back bone. He took a different angle and poked the tip of the sharp knife into the narrow slit between the bones and pushed gently. The carcass twitched again at the intrusion. A section as wide as his hand came free and he held it out to show Brenan. It was a clean, easy to handle piece of bony flesh.

"How long will it keep moving like that?" Brenan asked softly, he had never seen anything quite like it before. Sure, he thought, fish still wiggle a little when you cut them up, but nothing like this. It was definitely strange and unnerving.

Danug grinned, he had done this a few times before. During his long journey, he had killed several large snakes along the way. Nothing even remotely this size though, he thought to himself, remembering just how good a properly cooked snake could taste.

"Brenan, these guys will even wiggle while they cook sometimes." Danug answered with a big grin. "The first time I ever cooked one, it was much smaller than this and I just skinned it out and gutted it and tossed it into a skin of hot water and greens. That one actually swam around in the stew." Danug chuckled at the memory.

Brenan looked at him with wonder and a little hint of disgust on his face. Sometimes he really wondered just how much Danug embellished when he told stories of his adventures. The snake flexed his muscles when Brenan grabbed him, and he took a deep breath and decided not to doubt this tale of Danug's, not with this snake anyway.

**********

The suidae was wiped out in rapid fashion by the hungry group. It had been absolutely delicious, grilled on the spit in nice sized, tender strips with deeply browned, tasty edges and a slightly pink center. It was juicy and easy to chew, tangy with the salty seasonings the women had used.

A stew of mostly snake meat and the nose of the suidae, complimented with bulbous roots and fresh mushrooms was tasty as well. But didn't get quite the attention that the freshly grilled pig got. At least until Talut discovered what Danug and Brenan already knew, fresh snake was more than a little tasty. Tender white, richly flavored meat that came off the small rib bones easily, it had a flavor slightly reminiscent of a small roasted fowl—or frog legs. Talut and Danug wiped out several bowls full each.

Brug and Mortan both had an enormous curiosity about the snake as well. Between them and Druwez, they polished off a few servings each, pleasantly surprised at the tender, tasty offering.

Inca stuck with the suidae, she couldn't get it out of her mind that the snake meat might wiggle if she bit into it. The thought was a real appetite killer.

The night was pleasantly cool, a nice change from the mild, humid heat of the day. The slight breeze came through from the south, carrying a light, dusty taste from the grassy flats down below. The moon was just coming into sight above the treetops, rising slowly into a clear sky of ever brightening stars.

**********

"...would be to carve steps into the bluff, that's the only way I can see it happening." Vincavec was saying, addressing the large camp as they all relaxed around the central fire.

"That would take quite a while to accomplish, though. Do we really want to stay here that long?" Rymar asked.

"Well, it is way to steep to carry anything back of any size if we don't carve up the hillside, that's for sure." Talut added with a grin. "But it sure is easy to get down to the bottom in a hurry."

Laughter erupted all around, the sight of the three men sliding and bouncing down the bluff on their backs brought back a lot of funny memories. It had been quite a spectacle.

Frebec reached down to massage his left butt cheek, the memory brought back a little more than a laugh from him with his sore, bruised butt.

"Talut, maybe this isn't the best place to stay and hunt." Branag said. He turned to Druwez who sat with Brug and Mortan over near Rymar and Wymez. Ralev sat in Wymez lap, leaning back against his chest with a small piece of carved bone in his lap.

"What's the bluff like further down?" He asked Druwez directly.

Druwez paled a little as all attention focused on him. He looked at Brug and Mortan, and Brug nodded to him to go on and answer for all of them. Though uncomfortable with the all attention on him, it did make Druwez feel good that the hunting partners were comfortable with him answering for all of them.

"Well, the bluff stays steep as far as we went, but it gets a little rockier in a few places." Druwez spoke more freely after the initial bit of discomfort.

"The walking is easy, and the tree cover stays sparse enough to stay close to the edge of the drop off most of the time. Maybe Branag is right, there may be a better way down farther to the southeast."

Branag smiled as Druwez finished. "Thank you for the report." He turned back to Talut and Vincavec as he went on.

"I think we should keep on going, this is just not a great place to get any real hunting done anyway." Branag turned back to the other side of the fire. "Wymez, what do you think?"

Ralev reached up and tugged on Wymez' long, scraggly beard at the mention of his name. Wymez grinned, and patted Ralev's kinky, soft blonde hair.

"This ridge runs for a long way, and that river down below is the first of many. A main river splits into several off shoots that each flow independently into the sea, and this is only one of them. To go farther south from here would be more than a little difficult, it would require many river crossings. But if we go farther upstream, the river widens into the largest river I have ever seen before it splits into its many smaller river offshoots. Swift and deep, the main body of the river is full of strong currents with fast, sometimes really rough water."

Wymez paused, blinking back tears from the horrendous memory of the last time he had crossed through this land, and the enormous price he had paid. He took a deep breath to gather himself before continuing, it wasn't easy.

"I have never been all the way down this bluff, but there is a place further down that we may want to explore. According to the legends, there is a huge waterfall where one nice size river drops off the ridge and crosses the grassy flats. This river cuts through the flats at a long angle, it is supposed to be a good place to hunt. The herds there are huge—bigger than anything we have seen yet, or so I was told."

The entire camp hung on his every word, the only other sounds came from the soft crackling of the fire.

Mog-ur found a lot of familiarity in the descriptions that Wymez voiced. The Clan had come out of the Land of the Sun following the southwestern coastline. He had memories of the multiple rivers that dumped into the sea, a rough place of rapidly varying terrains. Rock shorelines and cliffs, broad expanses of loose sand with tall, hard to cross dunes. Thick woods and large barren places, the old memories covered the spectrum of difficult to traverse landscapes. The idea of heading away from the sea to venture more easterly was becoming more and more appealing all the time.

"If it were up to me, I would move on down the ridge. I think we will like what we find there." Wymez concluded, and leaned down to kiss the top of Ralev's head. The boy grabbed another hand full of Wymez beard and tugged affectionately on it.

Talut tugged at the point of his own beard, deep in thought. We are in uncharted territory anyway, he thought. Wymez is only vaguely familiar with the southern route, and there is no telling what all has changed since he was last here anyway. His mind wandered on, contemplating the many possibilities.

Little Manut fidgeted in Talut's lap, then reached up and grabbed a fist full of Talut's chest hair, and tried to crawl on up his chest. Talut pulled him on up, and stuck his face in the boys chest and wiggled it around. Manut grabbed a double hand full of Talut's bright red hair, and grinned as he hung on for the ride.

Vincavec held Matera's hand, deep in thought himself. This is all just one big adventure anyway, he considered, why not stay up on this ridge for a while. At least it would keep us free from the threat of all the lions and whatever else is down in the flats that might just want to eat us.

"I think we should move on down the ridge." Vincavec said after a long period of silence. "Here on the ridge we have had no problems finding fresh water, game is plentiful, and it is still easy traveling."

He paused as the attention of the gathering all focused on him.

"If we stay up here, we will be free from the numerous predators in the flats and we might even find a better way to hunt further down."

Heads nodded in agreement all around him, and Vincavec finished up.

"That is the extent of my words of wisdom."

Soft laughter grew from the gathering at the mock look of importance on Vincavec's face. The bright pattern of colorful tattoos on his face seemed to almost glow in the flickering firelight, his grin was broad and infectious, and Matera poked him in the ribs with her elbow. The laughter spread through the camp.

**********

"Did you hear that?" Tressie asked, pushing Danug's face away from her neck.

The night was darker than usual, the tall trees surrounding the camp casting deep shadows from the brightness of the moon and stars. The small perimeter fire burned low, a bright orange coal bed shimmering under the diminishing, short yellow flames. An erratic breeze rustled through the leaves of the trees overhead, making the dark shadows dance and move around them.

Danug pulled back toward her, overpowering her weak effort to push him away. "All I hear is your heart beating." He whispered as he nibbled her earlobe before working his way back down her neck.

Tressie grabbed a hand full of Danug's hair at the top of his head, and pulled him away a little harder this time. He grimaced as she cocked her head and looked out into the edges of the flickering firelight. Danug caught a brief glimpse of something unusual just to the left of Tressie's face, well out in the darkness as he started to give her a dirty look for refusing his advances. It was just a glimpse, a very brief glimpse, but enough to get his mind quickly back to his guard duty responsibilities.

A soft rustling out from the shadows, footfalls in the soft leaves and grass. Another small gust of wind drowned out the sound with the rustling noises of the tree limbs swaying softly. A slight movement at the far edge of the firelight, or was it just a shadow? Both of them saw it, and Danug reached over to grasp his long throwing spear beside him on the ground, Tressie stared out into the darkness.

As Danug pulled his spear off the ground and pointed the tip toward the moving shadows, Tressie gasped. Danug saw it too, or did he?

For only an instant, a pair of yellowish eyes were looking at them from the darkness, illuminated ever so briefly by the light of the fire. Then, in a rapid, sudden retreat, soft footfalls faded away to the northeast.

"Did you see that?" Tressie asked in a small, frightened voice.

Danug took a deep breath before whispering his answer. "I saw something. Something that looked rather scary."

Tressie leaned her quivering body into his, and Danug wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. She relaxed a little, his hard, warm body comforting and protecting her.

Danug set the spear back onto the ground, and reached over to pull a few fresh sticks off the pile behind him and tossed them into the low flames. Tressie cuddled closer against him, leaning her head into the front of his wide shoulder. Danug watched carefully to the northeast as the flames of the fire brightened, an owl hooted right above where he stared. It was hard to spot any particular movement out in the slightly moving shadows, but they both kept their eyes peeled.

**********

"...it could have been a black panther, they are as quiet afoot as any big cat and almost impossible to see in the dark." Wymez explained, sipping a slightly sweet herbal tea by the main fire. "They are strictly night hunters, they have yellow and brown eyes that seem to glow if they catch the light of a fire just right. I've seen it before, it will really raise the hair on the back of your head."

Danug listened intently, so did Tressie and both of them grinned, they knew the feeling. A half dozen others that lounged at the fire came up to listen in as the sun came up slowly. These days, whenever Wymez or Mog-ur answered a question about this strange land they were in, it inevitably drew a crowd. This morning was no exception.

Ranec approached the small gathering, Ralev dogging his every step. The stocky little boy looked just like a miniature, light skinned version of Ranec, they even walked the with same nuances in how their bodies moved. Ranec was slowly becoming used to this new status that Wymez had gained, it was something else about the father of his hearth for him to be proud of.

"They are even hard to see close up." Ranec said, joining the conversation with a chuckle. "Or so my memory tells me."

"Ranec was almost attacked when he was just about Ralev's size." Wymez said as he reached down to muss the kinky hair of the light skinned little boy. Ralev smiled up at Wymez, and hugged the older man's leg affectionately as he continued his explanations and descriptions of the panther.

"The black panther is an aggressive hunter. In fact, he is probably the most aggressive cat I've ever known or heard of. He has absolutely no fear of humans and will come right into a camp or settlement, especially if it is dimly lit, under the darkness of night. We should probably keep our perimeter fires stoked up pretty high throughout the nights from now on, the main camp fire as well. The guards should all stay well within the light of the fires, and stay in pairs exclusively. This kind of panther can be on you so fast that only a quick acting partner may be able to save you from a serious attack."

The crowd around Wymez continued to grow, quiet and respectfully listening and learning. As he finished, Wymez started answering more and more questions from the crowd. They all hung on his every word.

**********

Three days later, they came across a place where the bluff became rocky and a little less steep in its descent down to the flat grasslands below. As usual, it was the morning hunting party of Brug, Mortan, and Druwez that made the discovery. A small creek poured over the edge of the drop off, creating a small pond of water at the bottom surrounded by dark, almost black mud and dirt. The watering hole was obviously well used judging by the numerous animal tracks left in the mud.

The flats below teemed with life. More striped horses, buffalo, and the antelope with the oddly shaped horns. There were more scavengers and predators also. A small pride of lions, a large pack of some kind of animal that was vaguely shaped like a fox, though slightly larger, and more hyenas. There was also a small group of something new in the way of wildlife. Something really different this time that was gathered at the edge of the trees at the edge of the river that was now a little farther away to the south. It was a little too far to get a good look at them, but they were definitely different.

The constantly changing terrain on the plateau continued to hold their interest, and the new species wildlife they came across was incredible to say the least. Birds of all colors with long, streaming colorful tail feathers and loud, screeching voices. More and more animal sounds rang out from the cover of the heavy trees to the northeast, animals that had yet to be spotted.

Trees like none they had seen, wide leafed and full with low slung branches that drooped almost down to the ground. Along the creek, another odd plant grew. Huge green leaves all stemming from the thick trunk, splaying out and drooping down. Clusters of long, green fruit hanging from the center of the plant beneath a spattering of deep purple leaves.

Just past the creek, a thick stand of tall trees created a shady, circular clearing. The perfect place to make camp, even though the day was still young.

**********

Talut led the small band over the rocky edge, looking for a good path down. It was an exploratory mission, but the six men were all well armed and ready for anything they might possibly encounter. It was tricky at first, the ledge was very steep for a little bit before the large rocks flattened out into a narrow ledge. This ledge angled down the rise a third of the way down before petering out into a jumble of larger rocks. Here, this rock formation effectively barred their way where the creek cascaded through it on its way down to the pond.

They backtracked to the east to hunt a better way on down, and ended up reversing direction again when they found another small ridge to follow. Weaving around steep drop offs and groups of boulder outcrops, they traversed the bluff slowly. Two thirds of the way down, the rocks began to thin and grass grew in the clear spaces. Walking got slick and difficult here, and they stopped to evaluate.

"We have to do better than this." Talut thought aloud, surveying the steep, grassy slope.

"The only way down from here is to cut steps into the bluff." Danug said, looking back up the ridge to the west towards the rocks. "Do you want to take the time to do that?"

"Well, we need to get a good hunt in. The stores of fresh meat are gone and the dried meat is way too low." Brenan said, grinning as he went on. "If it weren't for Brug, Druwez, and Mortan we'd all be going hungry lately anyway."

"Maybe we should have brought them with us," Branag added. "I'll bet they could find a better path than this."

"Let's go back to the last ledge and see if there is a better way." Talut said, turning to climb back up.

Talut was getting a little flustered. With all the available game down in the flats, it was just too much to need meat and no to be able to get down to them to hunt. Besides, he was hungry.

Somewhere in the middle of the rocks, Danug spotted another slight ridge. It was narrow, but looked to be at least wide enough to walk on. Getting to it required some clearing. The stones here were large and heavy, but they eventually cleared a small path through them and made their way on down. This ledge angled down the side of the slope at a long angle, making it much easier to walk. It played out into the grass, twice Talut's height above the flats.

"We can cut steps from here on down," Talut began, addressing all the men he had with him. "And we should be able to clear the path through the rocks better up there. Coming back up with loads of meat will make it too hard if we don't."

"I'll go back for tools and a little more help." Branag said from the rear of the line of men, then turned to start back up the rise.

"Bring food!" Talut yelled.

Branag laughed all the way back up the rise.

**********

Mortan froze, reaching out to his right to stop Brug. Druwez stayed three steps behind them, and stopped quickly. Mortan peered ahead, looking for the movement he had just seen in the shadows of a low slung tree to the east.

The three young hunters had followed the creek inland from the bluff, cutting back to the south through a break in the trees, bushes, and plants. They had seen glimpses of some kind of small antelope or deer, but nothing much else in the way of sizable game. Ground squirrels and their cousins, the high climbing tree squirrels kept giving away their positions. Every time they tried to stalk something, the squirrels started chattering at them and whatever they were after took off.

Brug lifted the tip of his spear slightly, pointing into the right side of the shadow. Mortan nodded, he saw the slight movement as whatever it was as it ducked his head. It was behind a thin bush not far from the tree trunk. In the bright sunlight of the afternoon, their eyes had a hard time focusing in the relative darkness of the shadows.

As they started forward slowly, a ground squirrel chattered at them from their right side. Movement in the shadows told them they had been foiled in another attempted stalk. In anger and frustration, Mortan took aim at the squirrel and threw his spear hard. The squirrel saw it coming and bounded away safely.

Druwez had to grin at Mortan's rash move, and calmly walked over to retrieve the spear. Mortan hung his head in the shame of the moment, and Brug put his hand on his shoulder.

'We need better stealth. Must be harder to see.' Brug signed when Mortan looked back up at soft sounds of Druwez' footfalls as he returned. Druwez held the spear out, and Mortan took it with a slightly embarrassed look on his red face.

Druwez had seen Brug's signs, and agreed. The only way to negate the chattering squirrels was to either kill them all or present them with a less formidable appearance. He looked around at the terrain immediately surrounding them, and had a sudden idea. Just behind them there was a short, wide splayed plant with outcrops of thin stemmed, wide reaching green leaves. Druwez pulled his knife and walked back over to the plant.

Brug and Mortan saw him go, and watched him cut off several of the stems, dropping them to the ground beside him. When he had a dozen or so cut, he jabbed the two in his hand into his belt, pointing down. A few moments later, he picked up the last cut stem, placing it down the back of his light tunic, the bright green leaves standing up over the top of his head. Druwez rearranged some of the greenery, then walked back into the brush. When he approached slowly from a little further to their right, he was almost invisible. He was well camouflaged.

Mortan grinned at Brug, and they walked over to the wide plant and began cutting. Druwez came out of the brush to join them, and helped in cutting up the plant.

**********

The work on the bluff went well, but a bit slow. The grassy slope was so steep and slippery that they had to get the majority of one step cut before starting the next. The ground was well packed and strewn with rock just under the surface, many large rocks had to be removed. Branag and Danug were lead men on the effort, and had four other helpers refining and widening the steps they had already roughed out. It was hot, dirty work, but they did it mainly in shifts since the steps they dug out were on the narrow side.

Up on the rocks, Talut and Brenan led two teams rearranging and clearing the rocky path. It was hard, most of the rocks were buried deep and it took a lot of digging and tugging to free and then move them. In places, small rocks were piled up to fill in low spots, in effect, paving the trail.

There was a lot of help available, and as soon as anyone got winded, someone else took their place. Nezzie and Etra set up a small skin of stew made mostly from dried meat on top of the ridge, as well as a couple of bastes of fresh water.

By late afternoon, the trail down was almost halfway completed. The top section was pretty easy to walk on for the most part, with only three trouble spots that were yet to be smoothed out. About six more steps needed to be cut to reach the bottom. Just before sunset, they called it a day.

**********

The sun was almost down to the far horizon when the young hunters were spotted, finally returning to camp. At first they could only catch glimpses of them through the trees and brush, but they came on slowly. It was obvious that they labored under a seriously heavy load.

Druwez led, with two pair of spears on his shoulders, one tied together pair led back to Brug, the other to Mortan. Between them, a very unusual, oddly colored animal hung from the spears tied at the knees, the torso dangling heavily just above the ground. Each boy also had a bundle of greenery hung next to their spear scabbards across their backs that bounced around as the walked.

"Will you look at that." Vincavec said in a hoarse whisper. He sat at the southeastern most perimeter fire with Rymar and Wymez, relaxing after the three of them had gathered an abundance of fresh dead fall.

The three men stared for a long moment, admiring the tenacity of the three boys. It seemed they never came home empty handed, ever.

Successful again, Rymar thought with the pride that only a true teacher has ever really felt. He had spent a long time training and being the consummate mentor for Brug and Mortan. It was obvious that they now had very few peers when it came to stalking game together. He wondered about the green bundles, figuring he would find out about it all soon enough. Rug always questioned them extensively after each hunt, successful or not, and Rymar almost always sat in on and contributed to the detailed debriefings. Often, this exercise took a good little while.

"We should go help them." Wymez said softly, shaking his head in amazement.

"No, it is their kill. Let them bring it all the way in, it is their privilege—and their duty." Rymar interrupted gracefully, smiling at his friend as he continued.

"We should have some kind of ceremony honoring these young, talented hunters. Their status should be increased to reflect their skills and value to this camp."

Vincavec grinned, there were few things he enjoyed more in this life than a ceremony. Especially one that had no real precedents to follow or criteria to observe. I should have thought of this myself, the long time Mamut scolded himself, what a great idea.

As the boys got closer, Vincavec couldn't help but to ask Wymez a question. "Well, do you know the name of this one?"

Wymez grinned, it was kind of fun being one of only two sources of information. He stared at the upside down, long legged creature. Observing the odd coloring, it came to him rather easily, surprising himself. This one was colored so strangely it was an animal that was easy to him to remember.

"That, my friends, is an okapi."

Vincavec chuckled, old Wymez does have a good memory, he thought. It is very fortunate that he and the Mog-ur remember so much, this is such a strange, wonderful place.

**********

Talut stood with Branag and Rug at the designated cleaning area in a small clearing just outside the main camp under the canopy of the trees. There were two wide, flat rocks that broke through the cover of short, green grass that provided an ideal platform to work on. A short line of other men and women followed the boys, a few of the children peppering them constantly with questions. They let the three hunters finally drop the large, heavy looking animal with a thud.

All three boys were red in the face, and visibly tired from the hunt and the hard trip back. As soon as the heavy okapi was dropped though, each of them stood up a little straighter and taller, their pride of accomplishment showing.

"Now that's a strange looking one." Talut said. "I'll bet he's tasty!"

The group laughed, but none laughed louder than Mortan. He was so glad to have that heavy burden lifted he could have laughed at anything. The muscles in his upper back and shoulders quivered. Mortan was a thin boy, wiry strong, but without the sturdy, thick base of Druwez' more solid, muscular build. Brug was considerably thicker in the body than either of the two boys of the Others, heavily muscled but shorter in stature.

Druwez breathed heavily, as did Mortan. Brug took one deep breath and was back to normal.

Branag put his arm around Brug's broad shoulders, and looked down at the large, oddly colored animal. What an incredible sight, it was heavy in the front shoulders and a little thinner in the rear, with a deep auburn-brown neck and back. The underside of the long, slightly thin neck was light, almost white. The front of the head had a black spot that wrapped from above the soft black nose all the way around the bottom of the front of the jaw. The rest of the long, tapered head was white with a streak of the auburn running down the center of the forehead. It was the legs and rump that gave it such an odd overall appearance, white and black striped—just like the striped horses of the flats. The legs and rump looked like they belonged to another animal all together they stood out so distinctly from the rest of her. So very odd.

This gal is so ugly, she has to taste good, Branag thought as he gave Brug a little squeeze. Branag saw five spear wounds in the carcass, three were very close together in the ribs on the left side of the beast. Two of these were obviously hand thrown spears, not from the spear thrower, the other could have been from either one, it was hard to tell.

Etra and Inca came over with Tulie and Regan, all had their skinning and butchering tools. When they got there, all they could do is stare for a while, but the grins on Regan and Tulie's faces said a lot. The women were just as impressed by the size of the beast as the men were. This was no small animal, it proved the prowess of the young hunters without a doubt.

More people gathered around, Wymez among them. The obvious question didn't take long to be asked, and Wymez began another question and answer period. No one was more attentive than the three hunters responsible for the kill.

**********

Talut pronounced that the okapi was even better tasting than the suidae had been, and that he was already fond of the excellent cuisine found here in the Land of the Sun. Though no one would disagree with him, Talut's appetite was legendary and he was known to eat almost anything and call it delicious. This time Talut was correct though, the tender meat was good, really good.

Etra had done most of the prep work on the wide shoulder and back strap pieces that were the first to be cooked and served. She had seasoned the meat with a combination of spices normally used by Clan and the Others separately. It created a unique flavor, salty and slightly sharp. The spices left a tangy hot taste on the tongue well after a bite was swallowed. She was complimented more than she would have liked by several of the men.

The story of the hunt was told in bits and pieces during the meal. Brug answered the first question, then allowing Mortan to take over for a while. He, in turn, gave Druwez a portion of the story to tell as well. The three of them told a story much like they hunted, working together effortlessly and naturally. It all came out, a little at a time.

It was obvious that Brug and Mortan had completely accepted and welcomed Druwez into their tight little band. Talut and Rug noticed this, and both were comforted by it—for different reasons.

Talut had always worried a little about Druwez, he had never really had a buddy that he hung out with, he had always been a bit of a loner. In this strange land, it was much better if he had friends and didn't go out much alone.

Rug liked this new union because he was not as readily available to go out with the boys as much as he thought he should. The demands on his time as Clan leader seemed altogether never ending. With old Crag gone, the addition of Druwez to the pair of hunters gave him a better sense of security and safety concerning the boys.

The details of the hunt continued, Mortan was currently doing the talking.

Once camouflaged, the squirrels lost their interest and quit giving away their position, largely ignoring the hunters they now saw as no real threat. This time when movement was spotted in the distance, they had been able to stalk up to well within range of their spears. They moved mostly when the okapi reached up into the lower branches of a tree to pull off more leaves to eat. It took quite a while to get this close, and with the sparse available cover to approach from behind, they had stuck together instead of spreading out.

The first cast was an orchestrated effort, done with silent signs and timed to the movement of the okapi. These were the three wounds that Branag had noticed so close together. All in all, this feat was rather incredible. Knocked hard to the ground by the rapid fire hits, the okapi had struggled to her feet and tried to run on three legs. Her left front leg not responding at all and dangled uselessly at her side. She had not seen the attackers, and turned away from them by pure instinct, only to be hit again with two more spears. One spear hit her in the lower neck, the other in the ribs on the other side from before. She didn't get far, falling as her breath got shorter and more labored. Out of six spears thrown, she was hit well with five.

Rug thought about it before asking the first question of the hunt. By questioning them in front of the entire camp, it gave the young hunters a real boost in status and appraisal. Rug thought that this was earned, and he was pleased to give them this accolade publicly, even though it conflicted slightly from Clan tradition. Rug knew how difficult it was to hunt successfully with so few hunters. He had done it a lot himself when he was young, though his success rate wasn't quite as impressive as these boys.

Rymar joined in, quizzing them extensively on their use of the native plant as camouflage. This was something he had taught them, though not quite in this manner. Their answers delighted Rymar, they had learned well, and improvised with what was available more than adequately. The pride of the teacher welled up inside all over again.

Vincavec sat off to the side, saying nothing but observing everything. In his mind, a ceremony was being born.

**********

Near dawn, the panther made an appearance. Salen and Thorec were on guard duty, walking the southern perimeter when the cat bounded past them at the far edge of the firelight. She went through the area that the okapi had been butchered, pausing briefly to sniff around. Finding nothing more than the scent before disappearing almost silently back into the darkness.

Salen and Thorec needed no further excuse to stay alert and wary for the rest of their watch. They had gotten a good look at her, though brief. She was big, as big as a snow leopard, maybe even a little bigger.

A little while later, the two men both jumped when they heard her screaming declaration of the kill. It came from the woods to the south, and didn't appear to be all that far away. It was absolutely quiet following her loud pronouncement, it stayed that way for a long time.

**********

Well fed and rested, the labor on the slope continued in earnest shortly after first light the next morning. Talut led the first group to go out to the developing trail, and was pleasantly surprised to spot the small band of impala at the pond below the creek run off. The view was very short lived, the impala spooked easily and were gone back out into the grass in a flash, their eyesight was obviously extraordinarily sharp. The whole ordeal stuck in his mind as they worked, something was trying to present itself in his mind.

Sometime mid morning, Talut had all those down below him where the trail turned back against itself down below to clear out. He and Danug had dug all around the last boulder that was an inconvenient obstacle, and they were going to try and push it free. They knew it would have no choice but to go downhill from here, and probably pretty fast.

Talut knelt down and pushed against the rear and top of the rock that was almost waist high out of the ground with all his weight and muscle. Danug used a thick tree limb to pry it from the bottom. Together they pit themselves against the stubborn rock, and when it began to move the pushed all the harder.

The boulder came out of the hole, and flopped over to its side, stopping abruptly when it hit another rock half its size. Danug repositioned his pry bar and gave it a stout push. The rock wavered for a moment, then Talut gave it a shove and it tumbled over the other rocks at the edge of the narrow ridge. It moved slowly at first, then rapidly picked up speed as it rolled and bounced down the rocky slope. The rock bounced onto one of the flat carved steps, rearranging the dark dirt as it hit and bounced through. When it hit bottom of the slope, the momentum carried it toward the pond in a long bounce and a couple of rolls.

Talut had his huge arm over Danug's shoulders by the time the dust began to settle around the rock. He grinned at his strapping son, proud of his strength and willingness to work as hard as he did. When he looked down at the boulder, it hit him, he now knew what had been rambling aimlessly through his mind all morning. Talut slowly pictured it all in his head, and could find no flaw in the idea.

"Danug, I think I know how to hunt these wary beasts of the flats..."

**********

The rocks were arranged in a scattered line close, but not overly so to the waters edge. Well within range of a regular throwing spear. There were now eight of the large boulders down there in the grass. Behind each rock, a hunter hid, crouched down but comfortable. They all had grass tucked into their tunics, at the necks and the waist and in the ends of their sleeves. It softened their profiles so much that Talut had a hard time seeing them except for their heads.

Talut looked down from the cover of the rock ledge halfway down the slope, he had five hunters all stretched out beside him. All were well armed with the spear throwers, and plenty of extra spears. Talut peered through a break in the rocks, it would have been all but impossible to spot him from the flats below.

Just as the sun was going down, everyone was ready. Excited but tired from waiting in their hidden positions for so long, Talut's signal informed them that possible game was coming their way. He used a whistling tune of the meadowlark to warn them from his high perch. Talut still had a good view, even though the daylight was slowly diminishing. The way they were moving, it looked as though the impala band would get close enough to the pond in time for his hunters to get some good shots in. As usual, when it came to hunting, Talut was right.

Jozen gave the final signal, a low pitched whistle that ended with as ascent to a sudden high note. The heavy, deadly spears flew in rapid succession. A second wave followed quickly, concentrating on the wounded animals, some of whom were struggling mightily to get away. As fast as that, five impala were down and one more wouldn't make it much farther out into the relative safety of the grass flats.

Talut and his bunch headed down in a hurry. From their vantage point, they could see a trio of lioness' and a large band of the tall, odd looking animals that resembled a fox. It would definitely be best to get the impala gutted and back up the bluff in a hurry.

The men with the spear throwers spread out into a wide, protective phalanx.

The wounded impala strayed too close to the lions, and fell easily to them. The fox looking pack went in close to investigate the kill, but had no heart to face the lions.

The guards held their positions as darkness fell and the animals were gutted and field dressed. When they were all prepared, the guards kept watch until those carrying the impala were most of the way up the steep slope before breaking off and following.

It was a crisp, clean hunt. They now had enough meat preserve, precook, and begin to resupply their traveling stores.

With any luck, we could do this again tomorrow, Talut thought as he carried an impala easily over his shoulder. I wonder what these will taste like.


	28. Chapter 22 Part 1

**Chapter Twenty Two**

_**The Waterfall**_

**Part One**

"I don't know for sure, but I would guess that it has been joined by another river." Vincavec answered, scrunching his brow into deep wrinkles of thought that strangely distorted his colorful tattoos. He gazed out onto the flats, looking out to the southeast for any obvious cause for the change in the river. The slowly setting sun cast long shadows.

Talut tugged on the bottom of his red and grey streaked beard, staring down at the cloudy river, far in the distance. It was muddy and swollen looking, and had been getting steadily wider for the last two days.

"That would make sense." Talut finally added, still tugging on his beard.

Wymez, Rymar, and Rug stood beside them, studying the lay of the land as well. The thick trees that had been so common on each side of the river had thinned considerably as the river spread out. The few trees that left were huge, casting large ovals of shade making details of the river banks impossible to see well from this far away. Wymez started to say something, then thought better of it and held his tongue, continuing to study the grasslands below.

The herds down in the flats had diminished a bit in numbers, but there was still a huge bounty to be had. Here, there seemed to be more animals that resembled deer and antelope than the aurochs or bison variants so predominant before. There were fewer obvious predators now, or at least that they could see from up here.

Talut scratched his chin, sweat ran through his course whiskers, tickling him and making his skin itch like crazy. He considered shaving off his beard again, something he had thought about off and on for the last week or so. Many of the other men had already shaved off their beards, but Talut disliked the frequency of keeping his whiskers at bay.

**********

The travelers had left the small creek on top of the bluff eight days ago. The succession of successful hunts had been more than adequate to completely restore their stocks of meat. Dried, precooked, and smoked, the meat coffers had been replenished for another leg of the journey.

The women had stocked up on edible greens and some odd fruits as well as some fat, bulbous roots rich in starch. Mushrooms were gathered daily, and onions were plentiful in long, thin occasional patches that were easy to locate from the smell they put out.

The black panther had made an almost nightly appearance around the edges of the camp, and it was decided that it wasn't a very good place to stay. Though never encroaching close enough or often enough to be considered a direct, imminent threat, the nearly invisible cat kept the entire camp on edge.

The terrain was constantly evolving as they made their way further along the bluff. The tree cover thickened, the bluff got more and more rocky, and the grass flats narrowed down below. Near mid day on the third day past the creek, they came upon a thick stand of tall trees that had overly thick trunks. The stand was so dense they had to get through it in almost single file in several places. The sledges had to be pried between tree trunks twice, it was slow going for a few days.

Another thing odd was that it seemed to get just a little bit warmer every day. No longer were the nights cold, in fact when the sun set it cooled pleasantly a little bit and then the temperature leveled off. Few men still had their beards, most were clean shaven and Wymez had supplied a number of thin, extremely sharp wafers of flint for this purpose alone. Every morning the ground and trees were covered with a fine, dripping layer of dew that glistened with the rising sun and made the grass slick and often clumsy to walk on.

On the fifth day, the thick trees began to thin and scatter out a bit more, and the walking got easier. More wide open breaks between the trees presented themselves, most with a nice thick grass carpeting the clearings. At the first good sized clearing that ran out to the edge of the bluff, they noticed how the river had gotten closer, and grown in width.

Now, three days later, the waters had grown even wider, more swift, and was now heavily clouded with a dark brown muddy look. The gentle swells were often white capped out in the center of the wide river now, and the surface stayed distorted almost fully across the width with taller, stronger looking swells.

**********

"I don't know, maybe we should have stayed back at the creek. That was a really nice place—except for that pesky panther." Talut thought aloud.

"I'm sure we could have figured out a way to dispose of him eventually." Vincavec replied, a silly, cocky grin on his face.

"I don't think we've left him behind, not according to what the night guards say anyway." Rymar quipped.

"We need to go on, this is not as good a place to settle as there will be further down river." Wymez said, breaking the awkward silence. All eyes turned to him as he continued.

"When I was here before, I never knew this side of the river. I was told though, and the stories had it that there are lands with more big game and an abundance of edible plants and vegetables past where the river splits the plateau." Wymez paused, grinning as he finished up. "I want to know if it is all true."

It stayed quiet for a while, everyone pondering what Wymez had said.

"Well, let's pitch camp here then, and we'll move on in the morning at first light." Vincavec said softly, turning back toward the flats and gazing at the rushing river again.

**********

"I don't know any established ceremonies for anything quite like this, but I don't see why you can't make one up." Matera said, sitting at the central camp fire. She had Lumie wrapped in a soft, sewn together rabbit skin sleeping fur and cradled her in her lap.

Vincavec reached over and smoothed a few thin strands of wavy, dark hair away from the babies peacefully closed eyes. The wispy, fine hair caught in the light breeze as soon as Vincavec removed his hand and blew right back to where it had been.

"That was what I was thinking. Why not establish an 'appreciation ceremony' to honor the boys." Vincavec swiped the hair away again, it proved to be a futile effort, he gave up and grinned as he continued.

"Have you ever known any hunters as young as these to be so prolific?"

"No, not even close." Matera answered quickly. "Not even Turral was that good, and he could catch anything that even got near the sturgeon river with fins, feathers, or fur."

Vincavec lowered his eyes at the memory of Matera's long dead older sibling. He had been an incredible solo hunter as a young boy. Always preferring to go out alone, he rarely came back empty handed. One day though, he went out alone just before dawn as usual, but was never seen or heard from again. No sign of him was ever found, his footprints faded and were impossible to follow as hard as they had all tried. Matera had never quite gotten over this tragic loss, and Vincavec was sure that it was this tragedy that had put her mother into an early grave as well.

"I think I'll ask Mog-ur to help me, I'll wager he has a few good ideas."

Matera looked up and smiled at him, she was sure her tattooed mate was right, Mog-ur seldom disappointed.

**********

Jozen felt something more than he actually heard it. The soft footfalls through the ankle high grass in the extremely dark shadows of the trees made the hair stand up on the back of his head and neck. Ludeg felt it too, and both men got a better grip on their spears as they moved back slowly a few steps and quietly into the flickering light of the eastern most perimeter fire. It was the second time something in the darkness had got their attention, but they never ended up seeing anything the first time.

It had been an odd night. Shortly after they had come on duty, a light fog had begun to roll in. At first it slowly enveloped the entire area in long thin wisps, distorting the dark landscape and casting hazy halos around the stars. Before long, it hung heavily all around them, blending in and mixing with the shadows and skewing all aspects of their outward vision incredibly. The perimeter fires glowed with subdued golden orange halos, but the light they cast was filtered and eerie.

It was easy to stay alert now, with all the wildlife that was basically unknown to them, potential threats just seemed to materialize everywhere in the misty darkness. The sounds came and went for a little while, keeping both men on edge. It made for a long second watch, and with the first hint of dawn they had yet to even catch a brief glimpse of the elusive panther that both men were sure had made the soft noises.

Mortan and Brug came out of the tent, carrying their spear scabbards loose in their hands. They wore light colored tunics and leggings that had been cut off just above their knees. Both boys had their wide belts on, with bulging pouches of tools and supplies draped over their hips.

Druwez followed them out of the tent, dressed much the same way carrying a wide bundle. The three of them dipped a cup of morning tea from the basket at the central fire, and drank it down hastily. Brug helped Mortan position the scabbard across his back, and Mortan returned the favor. Druwez dropped the bundle of cut, splaying leaves with the thin, stiff stems from the odd plant they had found many days back, and the three of them started the well practiced exercise of camouflaging themselves. It didn't take very long at all.

"Good morning Ludeg, Jozen." Mortan said softly but politely as they approached the two guards. "We'll be hunting the edge of the bluff for a while."

"Good hunting." Jozen answered in a raspy whisper, smiling at the hunters.

The boys stopped at the perimeter fire to stare at the drifting layers of fog. The light sunlight casting an array of soft colors that glowed on the upper waves of the mists. It almost looked like small clouds of wispy white smoke, bands of yellow and white on a background of dark greens and greys. Though a little daunting, it was definitely beautiful to look at.

"Be careful, I think the panther was stalking around again in the night." Ludeg signed and spoke at the same time. "We haven't heard anything in a while though, but keep your eyes pealed."

Brug looked up at the tall, light haired man and nodded solemnly. 'We are always careful, it is the game that is in danger.'

Ludeg smiled, reaching down to pat Brug's shoulder between the stiff, springy leaves affectionately. The confidence they exuded was well earned, in all their hunts they had only gotten in real trouble once. Ludeg chuckled at the memory of the story, he hadn't seen it happen, but he did see the size of the grouper that had almost drowned them. He watched them go, disappearing quickly into the dim light and cool mists of the low hanging fog.

"We ought to go with them some morning, I'd like to see how they hunt these new lands." Jozen said, openly admiring the skills the young hunters showed on a daily basis.

"Old men like us would probably just cramp their style and get in the way." Ludeg replied with a grin.

Jozen laughed, the 'old men' remark hit home a little too close for comfort. He never would have thought it possible for one man to have seen or lived through all that he had in the last few years. Jozen did indeed feel old sometimes, and envied the boys their youth and seemingly endless stamina.

When he looked over at Ludeg, he noticed several visible scars on his upper shoulder and forearm and one trio of deep scratches that ran at an angle down his neck. Long since healed over, light pink welts would always be a reminder of some close call from the past. We are starting to get old, he realized, when did all this happen, he wondered incredulously. Jozen yawned and decided a cup of tea might help revive him from the half night of guard duty that seemed to get a little longer and harder to do every time it was his turn to stand the watch. When Jozen looked back up at the slightly taller Ludeg, he grinned to see him yawning too.

"Come on, let's go get a fresh cup of tea, old man." Ludeg grinned through the remnants of the yawn, and turned back toward the central fire.

Both of them were in their twentieth year.

**********

Druwez slowed and peered past the wide green leaves, they were walking through a wide stand of banana trees that grew close together. It was impossible to move through all this making no sounds, but with all the rustling noises the leaves made in the breeze they were all still probably hard to hear or detect. He kept losing sight of Brug and Mortan, even though they all stayed pretty close together. There was a small drop off, three or four steep steps down through smooth, light grey rocks that broke up through the swaying banana trees and knee high grass.

Brug suddenly appeared to Druwez' right side, startling him slightly. Mortan made his way through the tall green plants to his left. They tightened up, scrutinizing the lay of the land in front of them. Most of the dew had burned off now, but the rocks were smooth and probably still slick. It might make it hard to get down the gentle slope quietly.

Mortan grunted softly, then slowly pointed the tip of his spear over to their right a couple of dozen paces away. He pointed to a wide, short tree that was heavy with dark green, wide leaves. There were several trees just like this one in a staggered, uneven row of varying heights, running from the right away from them off to the left. None of them were very tall compared to the huge trees they had usually found to camp under, but the were thick enough to cast dark shadows beneath them and make their vision sketchy at best.

The three of them looked into the higher branches of the tree, and then it all happened at once. Movement exploded all through the upper portion of the tree. Sudden screams and high pitched noises, almost crying whistles rang out and the flurry of movement shifted into high gear. Light tan shapes suddenly moved through the branches as easy as squirrels, but these animals were bigger, a lot bigger.

Mortan gasped, gripping his spear hard. Druwez cringed, ducking down a little to get a little farther behind the wide green leaves waving gently in the soft breeze. Brug's jaw dropped, and he stared ahead watching it all play out with his mouth hanging wide open.

There were more of the strange ones than any of the boys could even begin to count, and they incredibly jumped from one outstretched tree limb to the next moving away from the hunters with startling speed and agility. Their long bodies seemed to almost float through the air in slow motion as they leapt incredible looking distances from branch to branch. It took a while, but the shapes of their bodies slowly came into focus. When it did, chills swept over the young men like none of them had felt in a long, long time. Maybe ever.

The odd, extremely quick animals were shaped almost exactly like an elongated human, with extraordinarily long, skinny arms and long, thin tails that looked to be another arm or leg by the way they used them. The odd, eery creatures were completely covered with light tan fur, short on their backs and slightly longer on their chests, rumps, and bellies. Their faces were black, and strangely almost human looking, or so it looked from here. The swung from branch to branch by their long arms, and seemed to be able to grasp limbs with their feet as well as they did with their hands. It was the most unnerving sight any of them had ever seen.

In no time at all, they were gone, and the screeching went with them. The soft rustling of the wide banana leaves slowly became the only sounds again, other than the heavy breathing of the three boys. They looked at each other with wide, frightened eyes, unable to comprehend or believe what they had just witnessed.

"I think we need to have a long talk with Wymez." Druwez said, signing simultaneously.

Both Brug and Mortan nodded, eyes wide and knuckles white from the firm grip they had on their spears.

"Let's hunt over there." Mortan said, pointing well away from the trees where the monkeys had been.

Nervous nods of agreement was all the answer he received.

**********

Later, in the middle of the hot afternoon, they came up on a nice wide clearing comfortably back away from the edge of the bluff formed from a wide semi circle of trees. Tall and wide, the trees created a huge shaded area that provided a pleasant break from the hot sun. It was big enough to set up a comfortable campsite that would be rather spread out, a nice change from the tighter quarters they had been used to from the last several stops of late. Traveling along the bluff had been relatively easy all day and having started out early, they had made really good progress for a single days travel.

"Lets stop here, it's early enough to get the repairs done on the tents and still be able to sleep in them tonight." Tulie said to Talut and Vincavec while they observed the mostly bare ground, that had loose scattered rocks all over the dark dirt in the cool shade.

The main two traveling tents were in dire need of repairs. As many times as they had been set up, then folded and packed back up there were now numerous tears in the stitching that held the large skins together. This was a regular maintenance chore that was long overdo and needed badly.

"Good idea, we need to make a fresh water run anyway." Talut replied, looking at Vincavec as he went on. "I'll take a group out to find water, why don't you get some men together to clear the ground and we'll stay here tonight."

As soon as it was decided that they were to camp here for the night, the trio of young hunters gathered their supplies and took their leave of the group. They got their hunting clothes on and wrapped themselves with the camouflaged leaves and headed east through the trees.

Wymez, Rymar, and the Mog-ur stood on the edge of the tall bluff looking out onto the flats. A large herd of the dark colored animals that looked a little like a slightly smaller, front heavy aurochs darkened the green grass lands below.

A group of fifteen to twenty hyenas lounged in the shade of a tree near the river just beyond them, eyeing them constantly. A pair of large females stood at the edge of the group, watching every move the herd made as it grazed in constant slow motion. Thus far, there were no stragglers straying far enough away from the herd to be potential prey, but the hyenas were vigilant as they watched and waited.

A little closer up the river was another group of the odd animals they had seen before but hadn't been close enough for Wymez or Mog-ur to properly identify. There were thirty or so of the dark colored, oddly shaped animals. Two or three of them were considerably larger than the rest, with huge shoulders and upper backs with longer, sliver hair. Oddly enough, the two large animals looked to have brightly colored faces whereas the rest of them had black or dark grey faces. They dropped down on all fours to walk and scrounge around, but when they stopped to eat or rest, they sat up on their haunches just about like people did. Foraging at the edge of the river and in the brush along the banks, they moved about almost constantly. None of them were ever completely out in the open, so it was hard to tell what they really looked like from this distance, but they did look odd. There were a pair of young ones that never strayed far from their mothers.

What looked to be another one of the tall, thin spotted cats trotted easily away from the hyenas along the banks of the river directly to the south. Even at this relaxed pace he looked fast, he had long legs and a thin, lithe body. The dark herd kept a constant vigil as he passed, moving their young back deeper into the safety of the bulk of the herd. All the animals on the outskirts of the herd turning to face the cat as he passed, heads lowered and their short, curled horns pointed at him.

Farther to the southwest a few more of the striped horses grazed out in the open, there appeared to be a dozen or so. They kept a little distance between them and the huge herd of black animals, grazing in a loose line three or four deep. There were two young colts with them, playful and actively bounding in and out of the band chasing each other in tight circles.

Rug walked up to them, and signed quickly to the Mog-ur. 'I will take the hunters with "Trall-ut" to look for water.'

Mog-ur nodded and Rug turned on his heel to join Talut as he and a few others gathered the water bags and organized a search party. With Rug and the other two men of the Clan, Talut took a total of eight men with him to search for water.

The river was much closer now, flowing across the flats at a fairly steep angle away from the bluff, narrowing the flats against the bluff much more now than before. Fewer trees lined the banks, but the ones that did were large, thick bodied, and tall. An incredible number of short, thick bushes grew on either side of a large patch of the tall, bright green reeds along the banks of the river. These were the plants with the narrow, stiff leaves that grew close together in tight, tall stands. Each reed had a stalk that was stiff and light, and usually very straight.

The waters of the river appeared to be clear again, a bright blue strip of color splitting the light greens and tans along the floor of the flats. It looked to be about half the width, maybe even less than it had been before. As they looked past the river, they could see another line of trees and brush further out in the flats. From here, it looked to be another river.

The bluff was getting rocky again, but here the rocks here were smaller than the larger boulders that had made up the composition of the drop off from where they had stopped and hunted before. The grass below was heavily grazed here, and large patches of dark brown dirt spotted the ground. What grass there was nearest the edge of the bluff looked tall, almost knee high, and a deeper shade of green. On out in the flats, the grass was shorter and a much lighter shade of green.

The sun was bright and hot, and a lot of the winds that blew up over the bluff was hot and dusty. A few scattered clouds floated by on the high winds, billowy and white, they left dots of shade in their wake.

**********

Talut and his group found a small creek. They had wandered to the northeast through the scattered trees for a little while before spotting more of the wide leafed banana trees. Talut had developed a fondness of the long thin fruits, and wanted to check it out. He wanted to see if any of the odd green fruits that grew in thick clusters were ripe enough to pick. They spotted the small waterway that ran right through the middle of the clump of banana trees when they wandered into the stand.

The creek was rather narrow, and not very deep as it made a wide curve through the stand of banana plants. The water was cool and clear. It widened out and got a little shallower as the trees thinned, and the creek turned more to the east over a bed of solid rock.

As they filled the water bags, a huge python swam by through the center of the narrow, shallow creek. Salen spotted him first, and was so stunned by the size of the snake, he simply watched as he swam on by. Brenan beside him, saw the snake and jumped back to where he had laid his long throwing spears a few steps behind him on dry ground.

Talut looked up quickly at Brenan's fast movements, and saw the snake when Brenan waded out into the creek with a spear in each hand. Talut yanked a spear from over his shoulder, causing the scabbard to bounce on his wide back and buttocks. Both men let fly at about the same time, both missing the elusive, narrow target.

The python sped up quickly when the spears pierced the water near him, wriggling through the water faster than either man would have thought possible. He put a good distance between them quickly, heading downstream.

Just as Brenan brought his second spear up to get ready to try again, the water exploded at the snakes head. A huge spiny head with a long, narrow mouth with long rows of teeth busted through the surface of the water and snapped shut on the body of the snake just behind his head. The huge jaws clamped down, the sounds of crunching bones echoing across the water. As soon as it had a good, solid grip on the snake, the long lizard looking animal rolled over and spun in the water. The long body of the snake contorted and clinched, as if it were trying to wrap itself around its attacker. The water churned, than stilled into a series of long ripples as both animals disappeared under the surface. The ripples pointed downstream in a narrow vee.

Talut and Brenan stood stock still, mouths agape at the sight of the sudden, brief battle. Neither had gotten a very good look at the lizard, but what they had seen was enough to cover both men with chill bumps in the hot afternoon.

"Let's let these men get the water, I want to see that guy a little closer." Talut said softly when he got his voice back.

Brenan thought about this for a moment, he wasn't sure he wanted to see it up close, wasn't sure of that at all. "Are you sure?"

Talut grinned, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. "Absolutely, I could eat another tasty snake. Couldn't you?"

Brenan had to grin, Talut's enthusiasm was infectious as always. "All right, but let's bring Rug with us. We might need some help carrying it back."

**********

Vincavec sat with the Mog-ur on a wide, flat rock overlooking the flats below in the shade. Tornec sat facing them, translating the conversation as well as he could. Both Mog-ur and Vincavec kept their words simple to be best understood.

"...to give them more status, more appreciation for their hunting skills and to show them how much they mean to this camp." Vincavec was saying.

Mog-ur thought about this, wondering if the spirits would be angry with such an open show of compliment to hunters so young. It was true, he realized, they have fed this camp when there was little else to eat more than a few times. Adding to their public status would probably only increase their dedication, if that were possible, he mused, this was not a bad thing.

The conversation continued.

**********

Mortan held up the large bird by the feet, looking him over as Brug approached him, carrying another one. By the time Druwez returned, Brug had the two birds tied together by the feet and slung over his shoulder.

They had come across the dark colored birds in a clear patch of low grass, by hearing their constant noise. Whistles and an almost chirping, raspy screech was constant as they scratched around after seeds and small insects. They were large, almost knee high when they stood straight up, with long necks and black and white heads.

The boys got into position quickly and stalked and chased them, killing two so far. Startled from the first wave of spears thrown, they split into two noisy groups and ran away, only two birds took to the air, and they didn't fly very far before hitting the ground running. The birds were quite fast afoot, and agile as well.

The birds looked like they were a light grey from a distance. Up close, however, it was revealed that their feathers were almost black with tiny white dots, so many that it altered the very color of the bird itself. Plump and healthy looking, it was decided that they must be good to eat, so the three hunters decided to trail them. Besides, they all thought, this was great fun.

Brug led them after the group that had split off to the left, and the boys trotted after them as quietly as they could through the short grass. As they got closer to the noisy birds again, they split up, approaching several steps apart in a rush.

Druwez hit one with his first shot, and then another shortly thereafter. Brug got another, as did Mortan, but both of them missed their second shots as the birds took off running again. They gathered up the kills, and moved on to the northeast in pursuit.

**********

Rug spotted the huge armored lizard out of the water in amidst the exposed roots of a tree with a wide, thick trunk. The python stretched out from the roots around the lizard and all the way back into the water of the creek. A loud crunch sounded and a sizable piece of the snake was severed off cleanly. The lizard lifted his head up and dropped the flesh down his throat, swallowing it in a single gulp.

Brenan and Talut watched in awe as the body of the snake wiggled and squirmed, the tail splashing in the water. The lizard reached down to grasp the snake again in its long, obviously powerful jaws.

Talut grinned, and raised his spear up into throwing position. Brenan did the same. Rug just stared, something was familiar about this beast, something from a dream—or maybe from deep within his long memories.

Talut and Brenan let fly at almost the same time. Both spears flew true, but as the first spear hit the lizard in the center of the back, the flint tip shattered and the spear bounced off harmlessly. The second spear glanced off the neck of the spiny creature, taking a small piece of rocky looking flesh with it.

Rug watched with anxious anticipation. When the spears proved useless, the angry lizard turned and in a surprising burst of speed came right at them with his mouth open about halfway. The three of them jumped back, and Talut ruined another spear point hitting the lizard just behind its head.

Rug stopped, pulling his own spear out in front of him with both hands grasping it securely in the old fashion of how the Clan men hunted by jabbing with the weapon instead of throwing it.

He held his ground while Talut and Brenan retreated a few more steps. Talut grabbed at his side for the small hand held axe he usually had stuck into his wide belt, but it wasn't there, he had left it back at the camp. Brenan pulled another spear into position, wondering where to aim this time.

Rug poked at the lizard's nose as it stopped in front of him, swishing its spiny tail from side to side. The sharp flint point dug into his nose, and the animal reared back his head and opened his mouth wide, snapping at Rug's feet. It had more teeth than any of them had ever seen before on a single animal. It opened its mouth and jerked his head sideways, snapping at Rug again, surprisingly quick and fluid in its movements.

The lizard exposed the underside of his neck as it snapped at Rug's ankles, and Rug reacted quickly and surely. He stabbed down hard at the lighter colored underside of the reptiles neck, forcing the spear point deep into the much softer flesh. His powerful arms rippled with the exertions as he twisted and turned the spear, driving it deeper and deeper with every strong movement.

The tail lashed out at him, covered with a rocky looking armor and two rows spikes that looked oddly like dull teeth that eventually came together at the end of the tail. Rocks and dirt flew in the wake of the slapping tail, and Rug deftly stayed in front of the beast and well away from dangerous swiping of the spines. The lizard continued to struggle to get at Rug, but the extremely stout man of the Clan kept him at bay on the end of his spear, pushing and man handling him with great skill and strength. It became a classic struggle between man and beast, each pitting their strength and resolve against each other. Rug appeared to be winning.

The thrashing slowed, and finally stopped. Brenan and Talut approached and poked at the hard armor covered back with their spear points, making sure he was indeed dead. Sweat ran off Rug in rivers, and he breathed hard and deeply from the strains of the struggle. His muscular arms grasped the spear strongly as he waited and watched. The tail twitched once more, weakly this time, and stopped.

Talut laughed aloud, then leaned back looking up at the sky and bellowed out his own unique version of a Clan scream of triumph. Brenan grinned at this break in the tension and joined him, reaching over to pat Rug's broad, sweaty shoulder.

Rug took a deep breath and added his voice to theirs, as the other five men came crashing through the low brush to join them from the east.

**********

Talut received numerous stares and laughs as he led his band back into camp. He had wrapped the headless python around his neck and shoulders three times, and still the long body of the snake nearly dragged the ground on each side of him. His steps were heavy with the substantial added weight.

Rug garnered even more attention, carrying the front end of the triple, bound together spears that the huge armored lizard hung tethered from. Troog carried the back end, and kept looking down in front of him, still a bit perturbed by the long rows of sharp teeth facing him from the long open mouth. The rest of the men were heavily burdened with full water bags, and trudged in tired and weary.

The smell of fresh roasting fowl greeted them, and Talut's sharp eyes caught the six fat carcasses cooking on three different poles of the multilevel spit. A large mound of black feathers with tiny white dots was being gone through by Etra and Inca on a skin spread out on the ground. They separated them into two piles, one for the long, stiff feathers, the other for the soft down feathers.

Jaycie and Tressie kept a watchful eye on the roasting fowl, turning and occasionally pulling them off the fire to baste them in a thin broth of melted fat with several seasonings mixed in. Jaycie had been quiet to the point of being almost mute ever since her mate, Gralon, had been killed trying to save the two lost children on the narrow trail at the bottom of the exploding volcano. Tressie tried to draw her into conversation often, but the most she ever got in return were simple, mostly one word answers.

Little Tonie kept an eye on her younger sibling, Tramen, always staying close to her mother. Tonie had even taken to sleeping with Jaycie again, something she hadn't done in a long time. Jaycie would often cuddle her tight in the darkness of the night, but only after she had fallen asleep.

A large group of mostly light green bananas with yellowish streaks lay on the flat stone used for preparing food, next to them was a mound of mushrooms, onions, and several auburn colored tubers. Nezzie and Deegie chopped onions while little Ooga sliced mushrooms into little squares.

Tulie sat next to them, playing with baby Manut, who was trying to get inside her tunic and at her pendulous breasts beyond. It was a game, and Manut was as persistent in his efforts to get at them as Tulie was in plucking his pudgy little hands away. Both giggled and grinned at each other, a lot. Manut already had the same twinkle in his eyes that Talut was famous for, a very mischievous twinkle.

Mog-ur and Vincavec approached the cleaning stone as Talut unwound the long python off him and Rug and Troog dropped the heavy lizard to the ground with a thud. Wymez and Rymar joined them from the edge of the bluff along with Vincavec.

The sun was well on its way to the western horizon, and the breeze off the flats was finally beginning to cool. A few billowy, thick clouds moved slowly from the southeast across the sky to the northwest.

"Wow, Rug. You killed a crocodile?" Wymez asked, his face showing his surprise and how obviously impressed he was at the difficult feat.

Rug cocked his head, and signed simply. 'Say name again.'

Wymez spoke simply, slowly, and distinctly. "Croc-o-dile."

Rug cleared his throat, then thought about it a moment, he spoke the name as well as his deep, guttural voice allowed. "Croc-dall."

Wymez grinned at him, and nodded his head.

Brug, Mortan, and Druwez were suddenly amongst them, Brug kneeling down to examine the large crocodile. His hands roamed over the rocky texture of the croc's back, and he paid special attention to the spiny tail. He pulled his sharp, bone handled flint knife out and prodded and probed the stiff armor plating with it. Druwez knelt beside him, fingering the heavy tail spikes too. Mortan peered inside the long, open mouth at the other end of the animal that was as long tip to tip as Wymez was tall.

"Wymez, is this guy good to eat?" Talut's question brought a brief spate of laughter as Troog dropped to one knee next to Mortan.

"Yes, very good." Wymez finally answered when he stopped chuckling. "The trick is cleaning him to get at the meat. The best meat is in the tail, but the legs and ribs are quite tasty too."

Rug pulled a wide, flint knife made in the style of the Clan from a pouch dangling off his wide belt. He sat down at the center of the animal, and set the knife on the ground next to him. Rug grasped the wide body just up from the rear legs and with a powerful push, flipped the crocodile onto his back. The yellowish tan underbelly made a stark contrast to the deep browns, blacks, and almost greens of the topside of the crocodile.

Feeling around the edge of the stiff armor plate where it met the softer, lighter colored belly, Rug picked up the flint knife and brought it up to the stiff transition area. He got a firm grip on the knife, and pressed it against the tough skin and pulled it toward the front of the croc's body creating a small, deep slice in the thick skin. The muscles of Rug's hairy forearm and biceps rippled as he pulled the sharp flint into the hard flesh. Rug stopped after about a cut was made about the width of his hand, then made a second cut in the same place. This time the knife bit much deeper, and the two pieces of such differently textured skins split apart revealing bright pink tissue underneath.

Rug finished the cut, then looked up at Wymez. Wymez grinned and nodded his head. Rug was encouraged and looked back down, prodding the skin between his forefinger and thumb and went back to work.

Every eye in the ever widening circle of onlookers was glued to Rug's every move. The stout man of the Clan worked diligently from the rear leg toward the front, slowly but surely.

**********

The feast that evening was as immense as it was diverse, served a little while before sunset. Wymez had been right, the crocodile meat was absolutely exquisite, especially the thick, meat covered ribs and tail. Talut and Rug gave them both a good working over, and the Mog-ur ate two of the tasty, deep white meat covered legs all by himself. The meat was very, very tender.

The python wasn't as widely shunned as the first one they cooked had been, even Tulie ate a couple of good sized pieces. The meat was white and tender, and had a pleasant tang to it that was a little bit addicting. The more you ate, the more you wanted.

The fat fowl were devoured with gusto, and most of the large birds were consumed completely. Crisped outer skins and juicy tender white meat inside, the fat birds dripped with fat. Mog-ur called them guineas, to Wymez' agreement.

Danug called them delicious, between bites.

**********

Wymez seemed a little preoccupied as the meal wore down and darkness first began to encroach. He watched the interactions of pretty little girl Tonie as she fed her younger brother Tramen, they sat with Jaycie.

Tramen attacked the small platter of cut up guinea and peeled bananas with the gusto of someone who had something else pressing to do. He finished the platter, and refused a second helping of sliced fowl, though he did eat another banana before heading out to meet up with Rugie. She was entertaining several of the younger children near the eastern perimeter fire in a patch of short, green grass. Giggles and laughter were constant as the children played.

Tonie tried to get her mother Jaycie to eat, but the older woman would do no more than nibble on a crisped piece of the juicy bird breast. The worried look on Tonie's face as she tried to entice her mother to eat got and held Wymez' attention, he watched them without being obtrusive.

Wymez eventually handed his empty platter to Ralev, who smiled at him and took the plate away to put it onto the growing pile near the fire. Ralev set the two platters on the top of a larger platter, and as soon as he let go the pile toppled. His high pitched, boyish laughter rang out and got several peoples attention, most of whom laughed with him.

Nezzie and Etra had a small stew skin of water warming at the edge of the fire, and Etra pulled a few platters off the sides of the pile and dropped them into the water. Nezzie did the same, a small piece of soft leather in her hand. They began cleaning the bone platters and standing them up to dry against legs of the tripod.

Jaycie waved Tonie's hand away when she tried to hold out a bite of rib meat from the crocodile up to her mother's face. The child bit back a frown, and tried again. This time, Jaycie gave her an exasperated look and set her full platter on the ground and walked away quickly. She walked through the scattered mass of people, and past the firelight out toward the edge of the bluff, her head hanging low.

Wymez got up and backed away from the loose, wide gathering around the fire. He slipped through people sitting and talking and circled the outskirts of the camp following Jaycie. When Wymez caught up with her, Jaycie stood on the edge of a wide rock overlooking the bluff, staring down into the flats that grew darker as she watched. He stopped short of the rock, Jaycie hadn't heard his approach.

Jaycie's shoulders began to quiver, and Wymez heard her gasping breath as she began to cry, softly at first. The wave of sobs increased, and she began to wail, ever so softly. Wymez walked up behind her, and placed a protective arm around her waist. She jumped at his sudden touch, and stared down at him through tear streaked, swollen eyes. Jaycie was a tall, lithe woman, and she looked down at the stocky, shorter Wymez. Her face contorted, a glimpse of anger, then overwhelming sadness wracked her and she collapsed against Wymez' shoulders.

Wymez held her, wrapping his other arm around her and pulling her closer. She sobbed into his chest, her body wracked with anguish and pent up emotion.

When she had cried herself out, Jaycie slowly lifted her head and gave Wymez an embarrassed look through swollen, red eyes. The starkness of her blue eyes giving a strong contrast of color to her red face.

"I—I am sorry..." She began, but Wymez reached over and put a finger gently against her lips.

"I too lost a loved one, I know the sorrow you feel." His brow wrinkled a little as he spoke softly with obvious feeling. "The only consolation I can give you is that the hurt will lessen just a little bit every day. Some days not as much as others, but in a while, you will come to grips and make peace with the fact that Gralon is gone."

Jaycie nodded, tears running down her cheeks and onto the front of Wymez' tunic.

"In time, you will understand that this was all beyond anything that you could have done to prevent it. Mut's ways are hard, but they are no more than we can ultimately bear. Gralon loved you very much, but he would have wanted you to go on and to prosper, to raise your children as best as you can. He would want you to have a life, not to give up and try and follow him on his final journey."

Jaycie nodded again, and lowered her face back to the widening damp spot on his tunic. She wrapped her arms around Wymez, holding him close as darkness fell around them.

**********

Some odd sounds got their attention down below them in the rocks. Wymez pulled back away from Jaycie gently, not wanting her to take any kind of offense. She smiled at him reassuringly, and turned to stay beside him as he walked back over to the very edge of the rock drop off. The sounds were getting closer.

High pitched yips and sharp barking, and an occasional grunting sound emanated from below. Whatever it was it was approaching the bluff.

A glimpse of yellow dots appeared far out in the flats, close to the nearest rivers edge. Long and unbroken, it looked like small, hand held fires. There must have been at least a dozen of them, maybe more. They moved steadily down river at an unhurried pace.

The odd sounds got closer, then in a flurry of small, crisp barks, it got suddenly quiet. Completely quiet.

"This is odd, go and get Talut, please." Wymez whispered to Jaycie. She leaned over and kissed his cheek softly before turning to go.

Wymez kept an eye on the moving dots of fire. His mind, however, was elsewhere. Jaycie was a remarkably attractive woman, but she was much, much younger than he. Wymez fought hard to concentrate on the line of small, moving fires, but his mind was too full of Jaycie.

Jaycie returned with Talut and Brenan. Talut carried Manut in the crook of his arm, and Brenan had Bralut sitting on his shoulders. They looked out into the darkness, and soon spied the small dots of light along the river.

"That has to be human." Wymez said simply, instantly distracted by Jaycie as she stepped up beside him and put her arm around his waist gently.

Talut noticed her pull Wymez close and grinned. Brenan watched the fire dots move in a line slowly, curving around some obstacle then straightening back up as whoever it was moved on. The lead fire stopped, and the rest caught up and gathered all around, with the increased light, they could see faces. Painted faces.

A lion's roar echoed out suddenly from the southwest, it sounded pretty far away. A short spat of bawling and snorting followed. A brief, thundering stampede sounded out, heading away from the bluff, then the lion roared again. Soon thereafter, it got quiet in the flats again.

"I'll post extra guards here tonight." Talut said.

"There's more." Wymez said, then went on. "Something, actually several something's have decided to bed down at the bottom of the bluff right below us."

Talut gave him a quizzical look, and Brenan did the same while chunky little Bralut grabbed a double handful of hair and held on tight as he leaned back grinning broadly. Brenan winced, and held on tighter to the fat thighs of his rambunctious boy.

"What was it, any ideas?" Brenan asked through a clenched jaw.

"I have a guess, but I'm not sure." Wymez said, putting his arm around Jaycie's waist. "It may be the loud ones with painted faces, I forget their names."

"People or animals?" Talut asked.

"That, my dear Talut, is a viable topic of discussion." Wymez whispered through a broad grin, searching his memories for the name of the odd, scary animals he remembered from so long ago.

"Wymez, you are starting to talk like a Mamut." Brenan quipped. "Speak plainly, please."

"Brenan, I can't remember what these animals are called. It is believed, by some, to be the last remnants of a tribe of people from long ago." Wymez was grinning as he continued. "Or so the legends tell."

"Look!" Talut whispered loudly.

Down below, the small dots of fire disappeared, one at a time. Then, there was nothing but blackness in the flats.

**********

Danug and Brenan took the second shift of guard duty at the ledge. The night was cool and pleasant, and they had a fire going on the edge of the rock away from the drop off. A sliver of moon glowed brightly through the halo created by the edge of a cloud, and the stars that weren't covered by the clouds sparkled brightly.

Salen and Ludeg had taken the first watch here, and had warned them that the panther may be near. Danug and Brenan both kept a careful eye and ear focused, neither liking the idea of a panther as black as the night being anywhere around them.

**********

In the blackest part of the night, during the last hours before dawn, it began. First was a loud disturbance from the side of the bluff down below them. Barking and yipping, a screech or two, then the loud, screeching roar. More yapping and loud barks, the sounds of gravel scattering and animals scurrying away. One last roar, then nothing.

From where they stood up on top of the bluff, neither man could see anything down below in the darkness. A brief, rapid yapping came from further down the bluff, followed by a series of deep throated barks.

An owl hooted from a treetop near them to the east. Normal night sounds picked up again, insects chirping and the sporadic bellows from the grazing herds below.

Brenan and Danug tried to relax, but the encounter below left them on edge. Danug dipped them both a cup of spicy, sharp tasting tea while Brenan stoked the fire. A gust of breeze blew over them from over the edge of the bluff. A faint smell of blood accompanied the wind. Both men repositioned their spears, keeping them within easy reach.

Though the rest of the night went without further incident, neither guard relaxed in the least. It was a long night, and the first signs of the dawn were more than welcome.

**********

"Go get Talut—and Wymez." Brenan whispered, watching the odd troupe of animals making their way through the grass. "Bring the Mog-ur too."

Danug nodded, but didn't move, watching down below. He took another long look, then hurried away.

It was still too dark to see much of anything across the flats, but at least three of the dark, aurochs looking animals were down in the distance and there were people surrounding them. The three animals were quite close together, or so it appeared from here. The main body of the herd had moved well away from the river, and the hunters.

The dark troupe below were much closer and moved away from the bluff through the short grass in a haphazard fashion. They stopped often to dig into the dirt or pull up a clump of grass. Eating or handing the tidbits to another close by, they seemed to almost be an organized family. They traveled mostly on all fours, but sat up like people did when they stopped to forage. The two largest ones stayed on the outskirts of the group, mostly keeping watch but picking up something to nibble on every now and then. The faces of the two large ones had bright red and white stripes, and maybe even a little blue. It was a noisy bunch, constantly yapping and barking and chattering to each other as they moved back toward the river.

Danug returned, Mog-ur, Rug, Talut, Wymez and Branag all with him. They all spread out on the edge of the rock and watched as the sun slowly lit up the broad flats.

"Those are the ones the legends speak of, the loud ones with painted faces." Wymez said softly, pointing to the troupe that was still rather close.

"Bab-buh." Mog-ur said, watching them intently. He had a sudden surge of remembrance when one of the large, grey backed animals turned and looked up the bluff, straight at them.

"Yes, baboons. That is what they are called, thank you Mog-ur, I was having a hard time remembering." Wymez whispered.

"They are not really all that dangerous, but they can get very aggressive if they think their young are being threatened." Wymez continued, his eyes were closed as he recited from memory.

Branag translated as he spoke, signing a little more easily than usual. With Brug sharing his hearth, which really amounted to no more than a corner of a tent, he was becoming more and more fluent with the Clan language.

"They are mostly gatherers and scavengers, but will sometimes catch and eat small animals. If threatened, they will gang up on and surround the intruder and can be very vicious. If they kill a predator, they will eat him and scatter his remains. They are fast and nimble, with sharp teeth and they are very strong. The big ones are the dominate males, as they get older their faces turn colors. These are the most aggressive, and definitely the strongest."

It got quiet again. The information about all these new, odd animals never seemed to stop coming. Mog-ur watched as Branag tried to keep pace with his crude, but easily understandable signs. Everything Wymez said sounded correct, and he was thorough enough that Mog-ur felt he needed to add nothing to the descriptions he gave.

"Talut, look at that," Branag began, pointing out to the left group of the three small groups of humans surrounding the downed animals. "There was only one small spear in that one. How is that possible?"

All of the men watched as closely as they could, but from this distance, it was really hard to see any kind of distinct detail. One thing became quickly obvious though, this was one experienced pack of hunters.

The men were all bare chested, but had painted dark green and deep brown streaks on their bodies. They wore short leggings that didn't quite reach their knees, and if they had foot covers on, they had to have been small. They appeared to have scabbards slung across their backs, but it was hard to tell for sure. Their hair was all cut short and looked to be pretty dark in color and rather wavy, it reached to about the bottom of their jaw bones. From here, the camouflage techniques they used were very effective, it was hard to focus on them as their profiles continually blurred into the landscape. They field dressed the three animals quickly, then halved the carcasses. These they tied to thick poles and carried them between them on their shoulders. In no time they moved out, heading back upriver in a line, with guards outside the lines flanking them. No long spears were seen.

"What kind of weapons are they using?" Danug asked.

"Good question, I don't see any spears at all." Branag added.

"Me either, but those are large animals. They had to use something powerful to drop them so close together." Brenan chimed in.

"Mog-ur, Wymez. What are they using to hunt with?" Talut asked.

Mog-ur's brows were wrinkled in deep thought, but he had a questioning, almost confused look on his face. Wymez was more obvious, he had no idea at all.

"Gnu" is strong, powerful beast. Hard to kill.' Mog-ur signed, Branag interpreted. 'Will fight back to protect young, this is all very odd.'

It got very quiet after Mog-ur's words were spoken aloud by Branag. Mog-ur had signed and spoken with his eyes closed, as if lost in thought. They all stared at the older man, and waited impatiently for more.

Rug stared directly at the Mog-ur, wanting answers as much as the rest of them but surprised at the information he had just shared. Somehow the name of the beast was somehow vaguely familiar sounding. I must meditate on this later, he thought as he continued to stare at the Mog-ur.

When Mog-ur finally opened his eyes and looked over to him, Rug knew that no additional answers were forthcoming. He shifted his gaze over to Wymez, but he looked just as confused as the rest of them.

Wymez finally said something, but it had nothing to do with how the hunters below had accomplished their feat. His voice was soft as he spoke.

"Is also called wildebeast, I think." Wymez looked almost embarrassed as he looked back at the Mog-ur who simply nodded in agreement. He obviously had no idea how these hunters were so successful either.

The hunters were now almost out of sight now, swallowed by the tree cover at the river's edge. A few moments later, they could catch no more than fleeting glimpses of them as they moved on to the southeast.

On the ledge, every man watched them go until they were out of sight completely. Each lost in their own thoughts, trying to answer the abundance of questions that came at them in droves.

Brenan nudged Danug beside him, "Hang on to me—don't you dare let me fall." He said as he held out his hand, Danug grasped his forearm in a firm, strong grip and set his feet firmly as Brenan leaned way out over the edge of the rock, peering straight down. Brenan searched through the rocks and the early morning shadows, starting directly below them, working his way down and to his left.

He saw nothing for a while, but as he searched back over the jagged rocks a second time, he spotted a dark streak on a particularly light colored, small boulder. Brenan scrutinized the area surrounding the stain carefully. Something, what was that, he wondered and leaned out a little farther over the edge to get a better look. His arm stretched completely out, and he was glad for the strength he felt in Danug's strong grip.

Deep in the shadow of a narrow cleft three quarters of the way down, Brenan thought he saw a dark hand sticking up in the air. He blinked and refocused his eyes to look closer, and saw that it was indeed a hand. A hand attached to a short, hairy forearm. The hand was small, as delicate looking as a child's, but the fingers were long with bony knuckles, and dark skin. It appeared almost black, or was it just the shadows making it look like that? Brenan wasn't sure, and tried to get a better look, leaning just a little further out over the edge.

It was no use, the cleft was too deep and the shadows just too dark. He had seen all he could see, but did that shadow just move? Brenan stared harder, but it was so hard to make out anything in the dark sliver of the shadow.

"Pull me back." Brenan said in a course whisper.

Danug gave him a powerful tug, and Brenan regained his balance back on the rock. He looked around, and spied a couple of small, fist sized rocks. He grabbed two of them, positioning them in one hand and grinned at Danug.

"Let's do that one more time." He said, offering out his forearm again as he stepped back to the edge of the rock.

"What did you see?" Danug asked, but Brenan just grinned as he grasped his arm again and shifted his feet to assure himself a good grip.

"Just don't let me fall." Brenan said, then leaned out over the bluff again.

Brenan studied the cleft again, watching carefully for movement. There was none, but now he could see a little more of the hand and forearm, it looked to be streaked with dark, dried blood. He lifted his hand out, trying to judge the distance and trajectory, then dropped one of the two rocks. It fell a little short, bouncing off another rock a few feet above the cleft. Nothing moved. Brenan took a deep breath, and he tossed the second rock with a very slight outward swing of his arm.

The darkness of the cleft exploded in sudden movement as the rock fell into the dark cleft, and a black blur took off through the rocks. It was the panther, it had to be Brenan thought as he regained his composure, glad again for Danug's strong grip. The cat moved effortlessly through the rocky bluff, disappearing a little down to the west in another formation of loose rocks.

"Pull me back." Brenan said after losing sight of the panther. It was a comfort to be back on the rock and under his own control, and Brenan took a deep breath, smiling at Danug. He was just about to tell them what he had just seen when Branag spoke first from off to his left.

"Will you look at that." Branag said, an edge of exasperation in his voice as he pointed past the near river.

The line of hunters appeared again, this time in the taller grass beyond the trees of the river. They cut south toward the other river, moving steadily in the same formation they were in before. A small herd of some kind of grazing animals split and left a wide void for them to pass through. It was too far to even hazard a guess as to what these animals were.

Everyone just watched, wondering how the band of hunters had crossed the river so quickly. Maybe it was shallow, they all considered, no one had been down there yet to check it out.

The hunters finally made it to the second river, though at this distance it was getting very hard to follow them at all. The dark patches of the halved wildebeasts were the easiest things to spot, and they followed them though the grass. They were way out there now, and approaching the deeper cover of the heavy woods that bordered the river in the distance. Then they were gone, swallowed within the thick tree cover.

The sun was bright now, they had been at the ledge for quite a while, watching the flats. Brief conversations took place, but there were always more questions than there were answers. Some of the men went back after morning tea at the camp, and a few others came out to the ledge to see what was going on.

"Luck." Rug's deep voice clipped, surprising everyone and getting their immediate attention. The fact that Rug had uttered a word of the Others was not lost on the Mog-ur. He stared openly at Rug, wondering if he knew what he had just done.

Rug pointed to a point far in the distance to the second river. Though hard to see any detail at all, the sight was nevertheless rather amazing. Four small, narrow water craft of some kind worked their way upstream in a loose line. It looked like there were about four or five men in each boat, probably four. A couple at each end, they used some kind of flattened sticks to slap the water with. Somehow these sticks propelled the boats upriver at a steady, but slow pace.

The very sight of all this was unnerving to them all. Rafts were the only known water craft any of them had any direct experience with. Oh, the Mamutoi knew vaguely of the river people and their huge dugouts, but none of them had ever actually been in one. The Clan had no knowledge of them, or anything like them at all.

All of them were rather bewildered. All but Brug, that is. He and his two hunting partners had come up to see what was going on at the ledge.

Brug's young eyes took in considerably more detail than the older men's eyes allowed. Now a few women from the camp had gathered at the ledge, and Brug moved a little closer to the edge of the drop off between them. He was intrigued mightily by these strange craft, the hunting possibilities they represented instantly getting his full attention. His young mind went to work, as soon as we find a real home... his thoughts began.

Brenan thought about the panther again. He would just have to tell them all about it later, he thought, watching the boats struggling upstream in the distance.

Mortan bumped into him from his left side, and Brenan watched as the two young hunters stood together and began to sign back and forth. He caught the gist of the conversation, and wasn't surprised that it was all about using boats to hunt with. These boys never stopped, he thought, what diligent hunters they were.

**********

Wymez had seen enough, he turned and walked back toward camp. Rymar started to follow his friend, but something in the look on Wymez' face caused him to stop and let him go on alone. Wymez moved slowly, feeling a little tired this morning. I need to get more sleep, he thought to himself as he walked. He had been up most of the night thinking of Jaycie, she had awakened feelings in him that had been dormant for longer than he cared to remember.

His mind was torn, two topics seemed to be vying for his undivided attention, pushing and shoving inside his head. Seeing the boats brought back more bad memories than he could have thought possible. It was a small boat like those that he had tried to cross that narrow straits of the sea in during his flight away from these lands.

Wymez remembered in incredible detail struggling to maintain control of the small, hard to control boat. Every time he pulled against the water with the flattened stick, the boat wandered in a circular direction that was contrary to where he was trying to take it. How Kar Ti had tried so hard to help, it had all been so futile, so frightening.

Kar Ti, his beautiful, dark skinned mate, the one true love of his life. Wymez remembered how she had screamed when the errant wave had hit them broadside, the water washing over the sides and the boat filling up and sinking so fast. So very, very fast. Ranec, no more than a little boy at the time, going overboard in the cold water, calling out so desperately for help.

Wymez stopped, he was getting close to the camp. His eyes blurred from the tears he hadn't even felt coming. He turned and walked to the north, aimlessly looking for a little solitude.

The memories washed over him anew, his tears fell again, stronger now.

Wymez quit fighting it, he let the tragic events all play out in his mind all over again. He hadn't let them out in so long, once they started, the memories took over his mind until they were done. Wymez sat down on the ground under a tree, leaning back against the rough bark of the trunk.

Finally, it was done. It was over again, the story was told though his tortured mind and complete. Kar Ti was dead all over again, lost in the swells of the cold water, and he and Ranec were shivering on the sandy shore with one small bundle of their belongings.

It was all so odd, Wymez could again see every detail of the brilliance of the moon, the twinkling of the stars, the chill of the cold coastal winds. All exactly as it happened so very long ago, exactly.

Wymez tried to take a deep breath, but that was all he needed to let go completely. The sobs took him, wracking him to the bone. He relaxed and quit fighting it, letting the anguish take over, and Wymez cried until he had no more tears.

He had no idea how long he had been there, but the rough bark of the tree trunk bit into his back uncomfortably. His beard felt stiff, the tears had dried, causing streaks of his long, greying beard to stick together. Wymez leaned forward, easing the pressure off his sore back and rubbed his hairy face, freeing the soft hair of his beard from the stiffness of his dried tears. He thought back to the people in the boats, wondering if they could possibly be of the same tribes he had known of before. So heartless, so violent.

The last time he had come to this Land of the Sun, he had gone much further to the southwest. This whole area was all new to him, these lands of the southeast, oddly enough it was usually pretty familiar in a vague sort of way. Surely the people weren't all the same here as they had been there.

Wymez concentrated anew, these people he had seen this morning were light skinned, weren't they? He thought back, examining all he had seen in his mind, sharpening the images as best he could, refining them. Their bodies were painted, so were their faces but the hair, their hair was wavy—not kinky. Wasn't it?

Wymez relaxed a little, the tribes that had tried to kill Kar Ti's people were all dark skinned. In fact, all the tribes that were fighting and killing each other were dark skinned. Maybe it was different here, he wondered to himself, he hoped. The feelings of old, the total helplessness and the insanity of it all dissipated slowly, almost begrudgingly. He took another deep breath, this time the sobs didn't come.

A soft footfall in the leaves in front of him startled him, and Wymez opened his eyes and looked up. Jaycie stood in front of him, looking radiant with the sunlight glowing all around her lithe, slim figure. She smiled at him, and Wymez' heart melted. The pain was gone now, but the intense feelings that took its place were just as scary. Maybe even more frightening than the memories of his long lost love. Wymez smiled up at her, and when she reached out to him, he took her hand and stood up slowly.

The warm embrace she gave him melted away the turmoil in his mind completely. When she kissed him, all else was forgotten, and a flush of warmth enveloped him. Wymez returned Jaycie's kiss, tentatively at first, then fully with all the pent up passion that he possessed.

Inside, Wymez felt the warmth spread throughout his body, and this time it felt better than anything he had ever felt before.


	29. Chapter 22 Part 2

**Chapter Twenty Two**

_The Waterfall_

**Part Two**

With full stores of meat and baskets brimming with greens, fruits, and vegetables the large camp moved on. Breaking camp shortly after first light, they moved inland from the bluff as the edge became more and more rocky. The sledges were simply too difficult to maneuver through the uneven, obstacle laden ground and they found that winding their way through the trees easier.

Fully provisioned, they traveled taking full advantage of the long, hot days. At times, they found themselves pretty far back from the ledge following the path of least resistance. The only real problem they encountered over the last five days had been an occasional lack of fresh water.

The trio of young hunters went out daily at or just before dawn, and had provided fresh kills for every single first meal. More than a few times, they had also found sources of fresh water for the benefit of the camp.

Heavy cloud cover blew in late in the afternoon of the fourth day, breaking the direct heat, but adding to the substantial, often stifling humidity. The garments they made from the skins of the animals killed began taking on newer, skimpier designs. Gone were the heavy, full tunics and leggings. They were being replaced by light, sleeveless tunics that most often were open in the front, and rarely belted to keep them closed. Leggings grew shorter, now stopping well above the knees and more often than not worn quite loose, requiring a tied belt to hold them up.

The only real exceptions were in the development of a fresh new type of designated hunting attire. Skins were plentiful, and tanning and curing methods had been refined and improved by the sharing of knowledge between the two peoples.

Ova and Jaycie had, over the vast duration of this incredible trek, distinguished themselves as the camp's premier garment makers. With Jaycie's recent, newly improved outlook on life, due mostly to her sudden interest in Wymez, the two women had picked up their output of new garments. With as many people as there were, their services were in constant demand. Though they did get a lot of help at times, the two of them were primarily responsible for the evolving designs of the clothing.

**********

Late in the afternoon, the travelers came across a nice clearing with a pair of wide, tall shade trees at the edge of a brushy clear spot in the forest. A small creek wound its way just past the first line of scattered brush, and a halt was called for the day. They set the two tents up in the shade, and built the main fire between them.

Ova and Jaycie broke out their bundles of works in progress, then summoned Brug, they had a new set of clothes for him to try on. This was a new design, and both women were anxious to see how well it worked.

Brug had torn up a few of his hunting tunics, more than a few actually, and had been one of their most frequent customers. As it became more and more important to be camouflaged to be successful hunting on top of the bluff, Brug had started working directly with the two talented women. He had a few rather unconventional ideas that the women translated into radical new garments. The creative new style that began to evolve was rather radical even compared to the newer styles.

The latest tunic and legging combination was the most unusual yet, and the look on Brug's face as he tried it on showed his excitement of the design.

The tunic was lightweight, tan in color, and made from antelope skin that had been scraped down pretty thin, it was very soft and pliable. It fit loosely, with sleeves that came down just past his elbows, and the bottom stopped just at the waist. Thin slits had been cut as ventilation holes on each side, starting under the armpit area and another two in the front and back of the garment. Thin straps of the same leather had been sewed horizontally onto the outside in several places, including on the sleeves, creating small loops between the stitching.

The leggings were loose at the waist, and stopped just below the knees. There were ventilation slits cut in two places on each leg, and starting at the thighs, the leggings incorporated the same strapping with loops as the tunic had.

Brug pulled the new clothing on, then tied his wide belt around his waist. The belt had four pouches attached to it that all bulged with supplies as well as his knife scabbard. The new garments fit well, and were surprising cool for as much of his body that they covered.

The women fussed over him for a little, checking the fit in several important places. When they were satisfied with the fit, Brug reached down and untied the strap around the wide splays of stiff leaves that they used to camouflage themselves while hunting.

Mortan came over to check out the new hunting garb, and helped Brug as he began to slide the stiff stems into the small loops. In no time they had a dozen of the stems in place, and the effect was dramatic. The leaves softened his profile, and the contrasting colors of the deep green leaves, light tan stems, and the slightly darker tan of the tunic made him look like a walking bush. Mortan repositioned two stems on Brug's biceps, causing two splays of green to stick up into the air shielding his face from the sides.

A small crowd of men gathered as the camouflaged garment was finished. It was stunning, no one had ever seen anything quite like it. Brug walked into the scattered brush to the east, and when he ducked down, disappeared completely from sight. A few moments later, he emerged from the brush from a completely different place than he had entered. Unseen until he came back into the open between two bushes.

The hunters were stunned, and loud conversations broke out from all over. Ova and Jaycie became the main attraction, and requests for hunting tunics like Brug's became the order of the day. Mortan and Druwez got their requests in first.

With a sudden crack of thunder from the low hanging clouds, the rain began.

**********

Two guard stations were set up around the outskirts of the camp. Makeshift lean-tos with skins stretched over them to shield the guards from the constant rain with the perimeter fires built at the edges of the slanted roofs were erected against the two large trees. A wider, freestanding skin covered framework was set up at the central fire with a large stew skin simmering at the edge of the fire out of the rain.

Rocks were gathered and set out surrounding the high ground sides of the tents to try and divert the water, nude men and women doing the work. Kids ran around playing in the warm rain, splashing mud all over their naked bodies.

As the sun set, the air cooled even more. It was a pleasant break from the heat, and many people bathed in the shallow waters of the creek, not bothering to dress when they were done.

The evening meal was served mostly inside the two tents, with the dryer, protected guard stations getting a lot of attention from some of the younger men. As darkness fell early with the heavy cloud cover blotting out the remains of the sun, most turned in early.

**********

Wymez and Jaycie took the northern most guard lean-to for the first shift. It was a little unusual for Wymez to volunteer for any guard duty, but it gave a pair of the younger men a nice, welcome reprieve.

The rain was constant, but not falling all that hard. The water that fell off the leaves of the tree drummed pleasantly on top of the stretched red deer hide.

Jaycie stoked up the small fire with a wide bank of pretty dry wood, then moved back into the shelter and sat down leaning up against Wymez. They enjoyed the cool evening in silence, watching the flames and listening to the subdued sounds of the night for a long time. When Wymez finally spoke, he started a conversation that lasted a long, long time. It was obvious that the two of them had a lot to talk about, and that both were a little skeptical about becoming romantically involved.

Some time deep into the night, some decision must have been made. When Ludeg and Salen came out to take the second shift, they had to wait until Wymez and Jaycie finished honoring Mut. Neither man minded.

**********

The soft glow of the sunrise penetrated the cloud cover slowly. Fat raindrops fell through the trees, angling slightly from the steady, soft breeze. The morning was pleasantly cool.

Talut sat on a short log under the overhang of a skin stretched over a series of long poles. They had set up four of these shelters all around the central fire. Talut had little Manut in his lap, playing with his youngest son while Rugie sat next to him. The baby boy didn't have a lot of hair, but the fuzz that he did have was a bright orange-red. Every time Talut poked Manut in the belly, he got a grin and a giggle for his efforts. The little boy grabbed at Talut's fat finger, and Talut allowed him to capture it often enough to keep his interest. The sparkle of love from Talut's bright green eyes was unadulterated evidence of his never ending devotion to the children of his hearth.

Rugie kept a close eye on Talut's game, having played it often enough herself, she could tell when the Manut was tiring of the activity. It wouldn't be much longer before he demanded the all important security of the nipple.

The incessant, soft drumming of the rain on the hide was pleasant sounding. It was the third straight day of rain. The ground was rocky enough to keep the entire area from becoming a large mud pit, but there were scattered patches of deep brown, sticky mud all throughout the camp site. The men had gathered flat rocks and set them up strategically into walking paths through the messier areas.

The trio of young hunters came out of the larger traveling tent together. All three were dressed in their new hunting attire, but hadn't yet pulled the palm leaf stems into the loops of their garb. Yesterday, they had made a startling discovery. When the palm leaves had started to change colors and turn a light brown, Druwez had gone out with Branag to cut some fresh ones. Brug had put a mixture of the older leaves and the newer, fresh cut green ones into his outfit just for fun, but the result had been incredible. The mixture of the three basic colors, from the leaves, old and new, and the base color of the tunic and leggings softened the young hunter's profile even more that it had before.

Manut started to cry, softly at first, but gaining strength rapidly. Rugie took the boy from Talut and headed into the tent, protecting him from the soft, persistent rain by tucking him under the front of her open tunic. Manut grasped at Rugie's chest, seeking a meal he wouldn't find.

Brug approached Talut, and helped himself to a cup of tea from the basket on the wet grass next to the log.

'We stay here another day?' Brug signed with one hand, slowly for Talut's benefit.

The signs slowly formed words in Talut's mind, and he nodded. "Yes Brug," he began then continued signing in the Clan's language. 'Stay here rain stop.'

Brug nodded, gulped his tea and set the cup on the ground. He looked at Talut and signed again. 'We will hunt along the creek, back later.'

Talut grinned, then nodded as Brug turned to join his companions. Even in the rain, he thought, oh to be so young again.

Mortan handed Brug his scabbard and helped to position it correctly across his back. Druwez handed Brug his favorite spear, and they followed Brug out of the camp to the east toward the creek.

Talut watched the boys leave, amazed at how fast they disappeared from sight with their hunting clothes outfitted with the palm leaves. The women were already working on a similar design for the men, and Talut was anxious to see just how well they would work.

**********

"...I don't know, it seems that everywhere we stop is a good place anymore." Talut answered the oft repeated question of when they would stop and make a permanent home. This time, the question came from Tessie. As a former co-leader of the Aurochs Camp, she wasn't used to not knowing things as important as this.

"This is the Land of the Sun, isn't it?" She continued in her query. "I mean, how will we know which place is the place? I am tired of traveling."

Talut scrunched his eyes in thought, she asked good questions. He looked up and tried to defer to Vincavec sitting nearby. Vincavec just grinned, Talut would get no immediate help from him. Beside Vincavec, Wymez watched the conversation with Jaycie sitting next to him, holding his thigh protectively with her hand.

"Well, yes. According to Wymez and the Mog-ur, we are in the Land of the Sun." Talut said, thinking of what to say next but floundering. What is the answer, he asked himself again. What exactly are we looking for in a new home.

"The Land of the Sun is vast, and yes, we are here." Wymez said softly. "This is the northeastern most part of the Land of the Sun."

"I think we need to make our home near a river, fresh water is always a concern." Matera chimed in.

"We will also need easy access down to the flats, the best hunting will be there." Vincavec added.

"There needs to be an adequate supply of firewood and building materials close by." Tulie quipped as she joined the conversation.

Tornec translated for the Clan men as the discussion around the camp fire went on. And on.

**********

One thing that was obvious early on was that the sounds of the rain did two things. It masked the sounds of their footfalls completely, and it made every animal they saw even more wary than usual.

Brug enjoyed the challenge of the stalk, probably as much as the actual killing of game in itself. The next thing the hunters figured out was that the new camouflaged hunting garb worked well. Extremely well, in fact they had already walked, completely unnoticed, right up to two of the pesky ground squirrels that so dearly loved to give them away.

The three of them fanned out on the bank of the creek, eight or ten steps apart moving slowly northeast. The trees were scattered and large, getting larger. Wide splays of more of the thick leafed palm looking plants dotted the ground, with clumps of tall grass and weeds filling the gaps between them. The ground was rocky, but muddy at the same time. The mud was deep brown and sticky, clinging to their foot covers and gathering dead grass and twigs as well. Every step seemed a little heavier as the mud grew on their feet.

Movement was all over. Squirrels, bright colored, loud birds in reds, greens, and blues, and rabbits and hares crouching and hiding in the grass clumps. At the edge of the creek, a pair of suidae rooted around in the mud. A strange looking animal resembling a skinny badger with black fur with two bright white stripes. An antelope with twisted horns bounded away to the west, disappearing rapidly into the brush.

Brug, in the center of the formation, tried to decide if he wanted to stop and hunt the suidae, or if he wanted to go deeper into the woods downstream. The odd looking pigs were tasty, but the hunters had just started out and if they killed these pigs they would need to return to camp right away.

Druwez whistled a sharp, short high pitched whistle from Brug's right side. When the other two hunters looked at him, Druwez used his spear to point farther to the west. He signed with his left hand.

'Funny deer.'

Brug slowed to a stop, and Mortan worked his way over to him quietly. When he reached Brug, the two of them moved toward Druwez. The three of them studied the odd looking animal in the distance in a grassy clearing between two wide trees. It was easy to see how Druwez spotted him from so far away, the burnt orange color with the thin white stripes stood out from the green and tans in the background rather dramatically. When he lifted his head up with a mouthful of bright green, young leaves, his horns got their undivided attention. Oval shaped and ribbed, they split from the top of his head and flared out for a way before curling gently back towards each other well above the top of his head. From here, he looked like a fat bodied deer, the way he was built.

'Let's get him.' Mortan signed, grinning broadly.

'How want hunt?' Druwez asked.

'Straight in, then flare.' Brug signed, following his signs by making a hand gesture showing his proposed method of advance and kill. It was very self explanatory.

They had hunted together long enough to need few words between them to know exactly what the plan was. When they moved out, it was in a crouch, putting short palm plants and brush between them and the odd, reddish-orange deer.

This was where Brug excelled, leading his hunters to their prey. Mortan and Druwez followed everything Brug did, in their own unique ways a few steps behind him. Brug's movements and body language were slow and deliberate, no wasted motion. It almost seemed as if he was able to allow his body to sway the same way the plants did in the soft, sometimes gusting breeze.

Rain dripped into his eyes, his usually wavy, dark brown hair plastered down wetly on his head. Brug didn't notice, though he did notice everything else around him. The subtle movement of a hare in a slow and deliberate hopping walk moving carefully from one flower covered weed clump to a sprig of bright green, flat bladed grass. A ground squirrel digging furiously with his front feet, holding an oblong nut in his mouth. A light grey bird with red spots on the sides of his head and a darker grey bill, long and curved downward.

The deer moved away from the trees, pulling bright green leaves from a short, berry covered bush. He was extremely attentive, gazing all around him every few bites. It appeared that the leaves on the outer most branches of the bush were the best. When he had the majority of them eaten down, he slowly moved on a little more to the east this time.

The hunters kept their distance until the deer stopped to eat again. This time, he was pulling leaves from a low lying tree limb. As soon as he stretched his neck up, the boys moved slowly, tracking the deer putting as much cover between them as possible. They were still a good distance back.

Every step closer to the deer, Brug's excitement grew. This was his passion, this was what made him the happiest.

**********

"Wherever we decide to make home, we will probably have to cut steps into the bluff, or make some kind of path down." Tulie added, wishing inside that they would hurry and find the place to make their new home. She was as ready to settle as anyone else, though she would never admit it openly.

The group gathered under the small shelters had grown during the course of the conversation. A few adults and kids were using the steadily falling water off the edges of the hides to bathe in. A morning stew simmered near the fire, permeating the area with luscious smells.

"Game seems to be pretty abundant all over, but there are also a lot of predators too." Salen added, then continued. "Good hunting doesn't seem to be hard to find."

"Greens and roots are plentiful, especially near the creeks." Nezzie piped in. "Fruits seem to be easy enough to find almost anywhere."

"Talut, remember when we came across the valley where we ended up building the Cave Bear Camp lodge?" Vincavec asked.

Talut grinned as he nodded his head, remembering that wonderful place broadened his grin considerably.

"Remember the feeling, the excitement we all felt when we first saw it in all its glory?"

Talut's eyes sparkled, so did several others around him who were there. Vincavec went on.

"That's what we need to find, a place that gives us that feeling again. A place that almost screams at us that this must be our new home." Vincavec grinned slyly, then looked around him slowly as he continued.

"We have been traveling for longer than I care to remember. We have seen many wonderful, and a few horrible things. We have lost loved ones, established new hearths, and welcomed precious new babies along the way." He paused as the entire camp seemed to be hanging on his every word.

"Through all this, we have grown closer. We have become better friends and we are now a most efficient people when it comes to our own survival. There is very little at all that we cannot accomplish when we all work together as we have done." Vincavec paused again, gathering his thoughts.

"When we do find a place that we know is to be our new home, we will all know. This trek of ours, this exodus, if you will, has been a long and drawn out adventure. If it takes another moon, if it takes another three moons, it should make no difference now. The place that will become our new home is out there, just waiting for us to get there. I council patience, for we will find that place, the new home we have traveled all this way to find. It is the will of Mut, and of Ursus."

The camp grew quiet, Vincavec's words had opened their minds to a different aspect of their previous prevailing trains of thought. It had been a long adventure, what would a little longer hurt?

The soft drumming of the light rain and the popping of the fire were the only sounds for the longest time. The serenity of the morning grew in the quiet.

"Vin-vec" is correct.' Mog-ur stood, addressing the crowd. At the sound of his voice, Tornec stood up and spoke loud enough for all to hear as he translated.

'Our new home waits for us, it waits patiently for us to get there.' Mog-ur paused as Tornec caught up.

'We will know this place when we find it. And it will know us.'

**********

Brug stood stock still, the red-orange deer was looking right at him. He didn't even breath, his eyes never wavered, they didn't even blink.

The deer was still thirty or forty steps away, having stopped to pull a mouthful of bright green leaves from a low hanging limb. As the deer chewed, he slowly glanced around him and stopped when his eyes reached Brug and the two hunters close behind him. Something was odd, but whatever it was the deer didn't feel or recognize any kind of danger enough to do anything but watch.

Brug took a slow, measured breath. Watching and waiting patiently, his heart beat fast in his broad chest. This was the time, the situation where he felt most alive, most vital.

The deer swallowed, then raised his head to pull off another bite. Brug took several slow steps forward, ducking his head a little lower to put a bush better between them. Mortan and Druwez followed, so quietly that Brug couldn't hear them two and four steps behind him, respectively.

The deer glanced around as he chewed, this time not focusing in the hunter's direction.

With a subtle gesture, the three hunters flared out and split up. Brug continued straight at the deer, while Mortan broke off to the left and Druwez to the right. They moved slowly while the deer was occupied looking elsewhere, and when he reached up for another twig of leaves, they stopped and waited.

It took a while, but they were finally in position. The deer was completely unaware of their approach, and continued to eat from the low hanging limb, working his way further under the tree a step or two at a time as he did.

Brug had his spear up and ready, he glanced at his fellow hunters to see that they were in position and ready as well. They were.

The deer chewed the last leaf from the twig, then stretched his neck up to get another. Brug flung his spear, the muscles in his wide chest and thick arms rippling with the strong surge of his effort.

Before the spear reached the deer, two more were in the air. The deer grasped a small twig and tugged on it, biting down on the fresh, new growth of leaves. The first spear hit him full at the bottom of his neck, just above the shoulder. The deer shook with the impact, faltering a step to his right as the other two spears hit him almost at the same time. The spears took him in the center of his chest from two different directions barely a hands width apart, shattering ribs and penetrating deeply into him. He was almost knocked to the ground, but managed to stay upright with a sudden lurch. He started to try and bound away, but another spear shattered his rear leg at the hip and he was down, sprawling in the grass. Another spear sailed harmlessly over his falling body, thudding into the grass a few steps away.

It was done. Brug was the first to reach the fatally wounded animal, and put his foot firmly on the side of the deer's head and held him down while he cut his throat full across with his knife. Mortan and Druwez were there quickly, spears pointed down at the odd looking animal as the death rattle took him.

Brug knelt in the short grass, making a few ritualistic signs to the sky, thanking Ursus for the successful hunt and for the deer. Druwez fetched his wayward spear, and the three of them began to field dress the handsome animal. It took a while, the deer was a little larger than it had looked, and very heavy. Solidly built with a thick neck and wide body, it was a very healthy looking mature creature.

They tethered the deer to two sets of tied together spears at the knees, tying the magnificent curved horns up to where the spears came together at the front. Getting into position, the boys tested the weight of the load, picking it up with a lurch. Brug took the front end where the spears all came together, Druwez and Mortan taking the rear with a pair of spears each a step apart. Though smaller in stature, Brug was easily the strongest of the three and always took the heaviest end of the load for himself.

The load was indeed heavy, and Brug gritted his teeth with the strain of the weight. Mortan, the smallest of the three, faltered. It was just too much. They dropped the deer back to the ground.

'We have cut sections.' Druwez signed. 'Too heavy.'

Mortan nodded, his face a deep red from the strain. Brug agreed, even he was pushed too far with the entire front end of the load. Druwez cut the straps loose, and he and Brug tried to figure out how best to get the bulk of the deer home.

"Brug." Mortan said his partner's name softly, but the inflection of his voice got the other hunters attention quickly.

They looked up, seeing where Mortan was looking, and froze at the frightening sight before them.

Six men, with skin darker than Ranec's stood in a loose line just outside a cluster of short palm plants and a pair of thick bushes a couple of dozen paces to the southwest. They were tall, and wore only short skins wrapped around their waists. Their bodies were painted with light green colored, uneven spots with smaller spots of slightly darker green on their faces. Long colorful bird feathers were stuck into their kinky hair. Each man had an odd, curved stick in their hands, tied tightly with a thin piece of thick twine. Thin spears with feathers on the ends stuck up over their dark shoulders, and each man had one of the extremely short spears in their hands.

They all stood so still, so very still.

**********

The first thought that ran through Brug's mind was that he was going to lose this magnificent red deer, and now he would never know its proper name. He had been exposed to the incredible dangers that strangers to his people could be, and had listened intently to all the stories that the adults told amongst themselves of these terrible encounters. Nothing had prepared him for this though, nothing. Brug scowled under his breath.

Mortan was frozen in place, the fear that enveloped him totally dominated his mind. If his feet would have obeyed his mental commands, he would have already run away. Far away.

Druwez was surprised and afraid, but he instantly tried to sort out the situation and began to weigh the odds. We are outnumbered, these people are strangers, and if they are hostile we are in trouble, this is bad. Really bad.

Brug considered grabbing his spears and readying himself for the fight, but two of his spears were still tied together. He had his favorite spear beside him on the ground, and two spares left in his scabbard. A chill went down his spine, and Brug had to take a deep, ragged breath to try and dominate it.

He reached up and grasped his amulet, and his fingers sought out the small spear point that Branag had made and given him as a parting gift so long ago. The strength and confidence of his treasured miniature flint point surged through him. He grasped his favorite spear from the ground beside him, gripping it firmly, and slowly stood to face the six men.

Druwez stood up beside him, spear in hand also. Mortan stayed still where he was, completely unable to do anything else. Brug squared up to the strange men, trying to feel them out mentally. He tried to hold his spear casually, not as a threat, but more as a projection of strength and confidence. Confidence the young lad didn't really feel.

They didn't appear to be openly hostile, not yet anyway. It was difficult, they showed no facial expressions at all, something the young man of the Clan had learned to read over time. Druwez also looked deep into the eyes of the center most man, deep, dark brown eyes, but totally expressionless.

Mortan finally came out of his deep state of fear induced paralysis. He stood up slowly, his knees were shaking but he joined his partners standing as tall as he was able.

The six men never moved, even their eyes appeared motionless as the standoff continued.

Druwez took a deep breath, then took a single step forward. He placed the butt of his spear on the ground and leaned the shaft against his chest. Slowly, Druwez reached his hands out and carefully extended his hands, palms up toward the strangers.

Brug gripped his spear a little tighter, watching Druwez from the corner of his eye. None of the men showed any response to Druwez' action. The stare down continued, neither side wavering, but neither side pressing the issue either.

The man in the center of the group, with three bright green feathers stuck out of his dark, kinky hair, stepped forward one step. He grinned at the boys, his brilliant white teeth shining in the dim light of the cloudy, rainy day. He reached out with the odd bent stick and pointed to the downed deer, uttering a series of words that were totally foreign and completely incoherent to the boys. When he finished, he smiled even wider than before.

A bright ray of sunlight broke through the clouds incrementally, slowly illuminating the clearing. The light grew in intensity, giving the bright colored feathers stuck in the strangers hair a new brilliance. The colors were so bright, they almost appeared to glow.

The rain petered out slowly and finally stopped, and a new silence washed over them. A bright green bird broke out from the top of a tree behind the strangers, screeching loudly as it flew deeper into the woods to the west.

The men behind the leader listened as he spoke again, pointing the odd stick to emphasize his words. His companions all nodded, breaking the impassive, motionless stand off. Several added their own words to his.

The leader reached up slowly, touching a green feather sticking out of his hair, then nodded at the trio of hunters. The approving look on his face said it all, he was impressed with extent of the boys camouflaged clothing. He smiled at them again, then spoke a single, slightly louder word.

As suddenly as they had appeared, the leader turned and walked unhurriedly back into the brush, the rest of the men turning to follow. The brush swallowed them quickly, and as they were just about out of sight, the last man turned back for one last look at the odd strangers that they had found. He grinned at the boys, then turned to disappear completely and effortlessly into the brush.

Mortan exhaled loudly when the strangers were completely out of sight, breaking the silence. The three youngsters all looked at each other, overcome by the emotional release of the resolved situation.

'Let's get out of here.' Mortan signed in a jerky, hurried motion.

'No, we cut up the deer.' Brug signed forcefully. 'We are hunters, not frightened children. Hunters.'

Brug's last sign was abrupt and almost disrespectful. Druwez grinned, he knew the feeling of being seen constantly as a child instead of a man. He understood Brug's frustration, and turned to try and figure out how best to get the heavy animal home.

Mortan felt slightly chastised, but inside he understood his long time hunting partner well and took no real offense. Sometimes, not often, but sometimes Mortan still felt like the child of almost seven years that he really was. He knelt down next to the carcass, and pulled the knife from the sheath on his belt. He looked up at Brug who dropped down to his knees beside them, then reached over and patted his wide shoulder with affection.

Brug's eyes twinkled at Mortan, then he signed. 'How do we get this guy home?'

**********

The remnants of the rain was sporadic as the skies slowly cleared. Occasional showers, though brief, still fell as the remainder of the clouds blew on through to the northwest. With the clouds thinning out, the heat from the strong sun brightened the land and built quickly. Thin, wispy clouds developed, rising off of the saturated ground especially in the clearings. The humidity grew to stifling proportions as the heat increased steadily.

Within the camp, wet skins and clothing were stretched out on low hanging tree limbs to dry out in the breeze. Smoky fires were built up to help dry and re-cure the hides. The lean-to structures were taken down and set up again closer to the smoky fires to hang skins and garments from.

The camp was a bustle of slow motion chores being attended to. Everywhere anyone went, they were quickly covered from the knees down with the dark, sticky mud. It would take a few days of constant sunshine to dry out the tents as saturated as they were, and they would need to be worked back into some resemblance of flexibility as well.

Talut was everywhere, helping out with all the heavy chores as they presented themselves, with Danug at his side. The two men used their incredible strength to take the added stress of the heaviest of the work off the shoulders of the more normal sized camp members. Always done with good humor, the two men never asserted their strength with any kind of superiority. In this, Danug was much like the man of his hearth, selfless in attitude and deed, ans always willing to help others.

Nezzie and Tulie had their hands full, trying to organize a meal in the midst of the activity bustling all around them. Etra and Inca helped out, but there were people everywhere, constantly getting in the way without meaning to.

Ova and Tressie decided to take advantage of the softened, muddy ground and were working on digging out a pit oven near the clear area used for cleaning game. It was dirty work, but the hole they dug grew quickly until the hit a couple of large rocks. Draag saw them struggling with the task of digging out around the buried stones, and came over to help out.

Draag's upper body was as strong as it ever was, and he was able to remove the first of the obstacles pretty easily. The second rock was deeper and quite a bit harder to get to.

Ova sat back, she covered with mud from the neck down. She and Tressie had removed their wraps and were working in the nude to keep from ruining any of their sparse supply of clothing. Ova watched her mate as he labored silently, he was a good mate, and she was glad to have him.

Though she would never forget her first mate that had been killed in the raid of their old cave, Draag had more than made up for his loss. Ova was as content now as she had ever been, maybe even more so.

**********

The return of the young hunters caused a bit of a stir as usual, but this time it evolved into more. Much more. The story of the dark skinned strangers garnered a lot of attention, especially from the leaders. Par for the course, Wymez and the Mog-ur became the center of a long question and answer session along with the three young hunters.

Brug got his wish right away, Wymez identified the odd red deer as a bongo. Wymez didn't know a whole lot about the animal, but for Brug, every scrap of information was valuable. He hung on Wymez' every word, filing away the information as fast as it came.

The bongo was primarily a forest dweller, preferring new growth leaves and grass as its primary food. Mostly a loner, they were a hard animal to hunt because of superior hearing and eyesight. They were also fast, extremely fast. This successful hunt was deemed a real accomplishment, and the boys were showered with compliments and numerous queries of their methods and tactics.

The hunters of the Clan were relentless in their pursuit of hunting knowledge, and Tornec was hard pressed to keep up with his translations.

They had preserved the entire hide of the bongo, though the animal itself had been cut into three unequal sections for the trip back. A sizeable amount of the meat had been left, and only the choicest parts of the bongo carried back. The skin was scrutinized and appraised by a wide assortment of the camp, the odd coloring and thin white stripes gave it a very unique and handsome appearance.

It didn't take too very long for the conversation to finally shift. The story of the encounter with strangers changed the focus completely.

The descriptions of the strangers and their odd weapons brought no immediate answers. Neither Mog-ur nor Wymez recognized the people by the accounts the boys gave, even though their descriptions were quite extensive and very detailed. Wymez did comment that using brightly colored feathers as body ornaments was not an uncommon thing here, but it did not help to identify the strangers.

The boys were quizzed extensively on the strangers behavior. How they looked and acted, were they aggressive in their stance, and so on. They were repeated asked about their sudden appearance. Did the boys not hear their approach, was the sounds of the falling rain the reason, or were they just that quiet. What about the odd weapons? They had to describe them several times, earning more and more questions without answers. Any answers. It went on and on. And on.

Talut watched and listened from the outskirts of the gathering, overly relieved that the boys were back—and back safe. He wondered again about the wisdom of letting them go out alone in this strange land. Talut glanced over at Tulie, sitting next to Barzec at the far side of the group. Tusie sat in Barzec's lap as he caressed her light brown hair. He was sure that the same thoughts were running through both their minds. They had already lost one son of their hearth, Talut wasn't sure if either of them could handle losing another.

The protective leader that he had always been, Talut was already formulating new strategies and rules that he might want to impose on the boys in his mind. They had always been careful, but had still run into a few close calls, even with adult supervision. This was a difficult situation for Talut, he knew how skilled the boys were and how fast they were growing up because of their freedom to hunt out on their own. But, he reasoned, it may be necessary for everyone to have an escort. At least for a while.

This land was so very different than anything they had ever seen before. So many new animals to contend with, people they knew nothing about. Talut's head ached at the volume of thoughts that bombarded him, he scrunched hie eyebrows from the effort of his concentration. He needed help with this, he knew, he needed the wisdom of the leaders, all of them.

**********

Later, early in the afternoon, Talut and Brenan decided to go out and check out the flats. Bellies full of the tender, tasty meat of the bongo, a nice walk sounded like a good idea. Talut couldn't wait to taste the bongo haunch that had just been put into the ground oven. If it was half as good as the freshly grilled strips he had just eaten...his mind savored the delectable thought.

They were camped well inland from the bluff, and had been for a while as they traveled through the sparse woods. Branag, Danug, Wymez, and a few others gathered their hunting weapons and decided to go along. In all, there were eight men and Jaycie that went with Talut and Brenan.

It proved to be quite a walk, they had veered away from the bluff farther than any of them had realized. The rocky ground that had forced them inland a while back was still just that, rocky and full of ankle and knee high obstructions. Outcrops of jagged rock permeated the ground, most prominently between the trees and wide growths of brush. The clearing were the worst, craggy rock and wide expanses of sharp edged gravel that were hard on the feet as they made their way on to the south.

Stiff leafed plants of varying heights and similar species that Wymez often couldn't name were more and more populous. These were the plants that the boys had incorporated into their camouflaged hunting clothes, Talut made a mental note to tell the boys about them, just in case they got harder to find later on.

At one place, a few of the short palm type plants grew tall, very tall in a small stand at the edge of a small dip brimming full of muddy water. Wymez stopped the group and pointed out small clusters of fruit that grew high up under the upper most splays of the wide leaves. Dates, he called them, saying that they were quite tasty when ripe, especially when cooked.

The group was usually pretty quiet as they walked along, it wasn't like they were stalking or hunting. A few times, glimpses of fleeing animals were seen through the trees out in front of them. Squirrels, both of the darker colored ground variety and the lighter tree dwellers chattered at them constantly. They effectively warned all the wildlife in the area of their approach.

The hunters of the group realized now why the boys had developed the camouflaged garments. The squirrels were relentless in their chattering, sneaking up on anything would prove to be most difficult with them around.

The tree and brush cover dwindled a little as they got closer to the bluff. What they found when they got there was different and a little unexpected. The nearest river was much, much closer to the bluff now, and the second river was almost out of sight to the south. The grasslands below had little in the way of grazing herds. The river was lined on both banks with heavier tree cover than it had been before, and the waterway looked to be a little wider. Judging from the color of the water, it looked to be shallower as well.

A wide outcrop of solid rock stuck out from the bluff, and the entire group walked out near the edge to look out across the flats below. The view from here was incredible, they could see the whole world as it stretched out below, or so it seemed. The grasslands were striped with the wispy evaporation clouds that rose up so gracefully and reached out in long, thin, white fingers.

A small herd of the striped horses, zebras as Wymez called them watered at a clear area at the rivers edge. A rather naked looking rhinoceros with a yearling calf grazed not far from the zebras. The lack of course fur on the rhinos made them look considerably smaller than those back home, Talut thought as he scrutinized them closely.

Several of the odd looking impalas were off to themselves grazing on a wide patch of short green grass. Wary and shy, they watched all around them as they lifted their heads to chew.

All in all, there were fewer animals here, but as they looked past the river, the reasons became more obvious. Huge herds covered the flats there, more of the black buffalo, and a monster sized herd of the gnus. A small herd of the bare skinned mammoth stuck out in some of the taller grass, a nice wide buffer zone around them in the midst of the herd of the dark colored wildebeast.

"Does the river run along the edge of the bluff, or what?" Talut asked to no one in particular, more thinking aloud than anything.

Gazes shifted, tracking the river back upstream. It became an interesting question, and everyone looked to find the elusive answer.

"Danug, give me a hand." Brenan said as he inched out to the very edge of the wide, mostly flat rock.

Danug grinned as he followed Brenan to the edge of the rock ledge, he had an idea as to what Brenan wanted. They had done this once before. Brenan reached down and slipped off his foot covers, and got a good toe hold at the very edge of the bluff. He reached out his left arm, and Danug took it with both hands, getting a good grip on the rock surface at his feet.

Brenan grinned, and looked straight into Danug's bright green eyes. "Don't you drop me."

Danug grinned back, and Brenan leaned out over the edge. Way over.

The view from here allowed Brenan to see far up the bluff to the southeast. He started following the bluff, looking carefully at the terrain as his eyes swept down the ridge, noting all the nuances as he went.

The bluff curved away from him for a while, and part of the edge was out of his sight all together. Where it came back into view, it was darker with rock and an amazing sight loomed far in the distance. The river poured over the edge of the tall bluff in a wide, cascading waterfall. Light colored clouds rose up from the bottom, casting brilliant rainbows that he could see even from this far away. It was absolutely stunning, very possibly, the most beautiful thing Brenan had ever seen, besides Latie, of course.

Brenan studied the waterfalls carefully, wishing he were closer to be better able to see more details of the incredible sight. The bluff on each side of the falls were almost completely rock, though it didn't appear to be solid from here. More like boulders and large loose rocks, or so it seemed from here. At the bottom, it looked like a small lake formed, surrounded with large trees and heavy greenery.

A vast multitude of thoughts started assailing his mind, and Brenan had a single thought that stuck out more powerfully than the rest. It was more a feeling than a random thought, a feeling he hadn't felt since...since when, he wondered. Then it came to him, it was the feeling he had felt when they had come up on the valley that they eventually built the Cave Bear Camp in. Brenan felt chill bumps rise up all over him, home, he thought. This might be home. The chill bumps seemed to get even bigger with the thought.

"Danug, pull me back, please."

**********

That night three sets of guards were posted. Though probably not necessary, the jitters left over by the boys brief encounter with the strangers made it quite easy to find enough volunteers. The night sky was incredibly clear, and a cool breeze washed over the bluff steadily, sweet smelling and fresh from the recent rains.

It was easy to get Talut to take the first watch with him, Brenan only had to ask once. With an expanded belly full of the tenderest bongo meat anyone had ever tasted, fresh out of the new ground oven still heating their innards, the thought of walking it off for a while was appealing. They walked around the outskirts of the camp for a while, seeing that the three perimeter fires were well stoked and provisioned for the night as the other guards set up for their watch.

Talut was an easy man to spend time with, neither too talkative nor too quiet. Brenan had always enjoyed spending time with him, he was an easy man to like. As large and intimidating as he often appeared, Brenan knew him for the soft hearted, kind man that he really was.

When the camp quieted and the other two sets of guards were positioned, comfortable, and on watch, Brenan led Talut away from the camp. They walked just out into the darkness away from the flickering light of the outer most western fire. There was a wide, weed covered clearing here, and they had a wonderful view of the starry sky.

"I wanted to talk to you alone, there is something you need to know." Brenan began in a soft, reverent voice. The brilliant sky was so huge and majestic that it almost seemed regal, a hushed tone of voice only seemed appropriate and proper.

Talut burped, trying to smother the sound with the back of his hand. He grinned and peered up at the sea of stars. "You saw something today when you dangled out over the ledge, didn't you?"

Brenan grinned, Talut was much more observant than he let on, and most people that didn't know him well actually thought of him as being a little thick between the ears. Brenan knew better, having spent as much time with him as he had over the last few years. Talut, much like his younger sibling Tulie, missed very little of what went on around them.

"Yes, I may have seen home." He finally answered, his voice still soft.

"Go on." Talut whispered, staring up at a particularly bright cluster of stars.

"There is a huge waterfall a day or two on further down the bluff, this river down below us actually starts up here on the rise." Brenan's voice stayed soft, but the excitement he felt inside came out through his words.

"At the bottom, the waterfall pools into a small lake surrounded by woods with large trees. The cliffs are mostly rock, boulders and huge loose stones. It was all so beautiful, it may be the prettiest place I have ever seen." Brenan paused, eyes closed, remembering the whole area in exquisite detail.

"It made me feel the same way I felt when we found Vincavec's valley, but the goose bumps were even bigger this time." Brenan finished in a soft whisper.

Talut chuckled, staring up at the stars. Home, he thought with an aching heart. A new home. Both of them watched the stars sparkle, each lost in his own mind at the prospects of the waterfall and possibly a new home.

As fine as the valley where they built the Cave Bear Camp lodge was, Talut still loved his own Lion Camp the most. It was a hard country to be sure, but it had been his home.

The Lion Camp, where all his children had been born. Where Old Mamut had kept them all in line with the Mamutoi way of life, where he now lay in a rock covered mound just outside the lodge forever. Where he had carved out a comfortable home from the very land itself with his own two hands. A fat tear escaped, slowly running down the length of his face. Talut had never regretted anything in his life like he did having to leave his home, this place where nearly every good memory worth having in his long life had occurred.

Since fleeing their home, Talut hadn't given too much thought to where they would eventually stop and make their new home. The extent and magnitude of the journey itself had kept any thoughts of a new home at the far back of his mind. The daily challenges of keeping such a large group fed and provisioned for such a formidable journey had taken pretty much all his effort. All the obstacles they had faced along the way, finding their friends of the Clan, the savages, the loved ones lost. Another tear fell.

A new home, the thought gave both of the men a rash of chill bumps.

"We need one more day to get the rest of the bongo cooked and to let the tents and skins finish drying and to get them all smoke cured again." Talut whispered, finally breaking the long silence.

"Two days away you say?"

"About that, depending on what we encounter along the way, of course." Brenan replied as a shooting star crossed the sky with a long sparkling tail.

"A new home." Talut whispered. "I do like the sound of that."

Brenan couldn't have possibly agreed more.

**********

Just after the shift change of the guards, the panther made his presence known. It was the first time since being flushed from the side of the cliff that he had been heard, and they had all kind of hoped that they had heard the last of him. He made a kill not too far to the east, proclaiming it loudly. It kept the guards on edge for the rest of the night.

**********

Rug met with the trio of young hunters just before first light. He informed them that the meat coffers were full to overflowing, and there would be no need for them to hunt for a few days.

The boys didn't seem too disappointed with the mandate, Brug had actually expected something like this. They needed to work on new weapons anyway, after their brief encounter with the dark skinned strangers, they all felt a need to carry more spears.

Mortan and Brug started out by hunting down new potential shafts, while Druwez begged some pre-shaped, raw flint from Wymez and started working on new points.

It took the better part of the day to get the rest of the bongo cooked, the ground oven was a slow process, but oh so well worth the wait. The tents were emptied early in the morning, and smoky fires built inside to both smoke treat the hides as well as to finish drying them out. Hanging racks were put up inside to drape garments on, and they were smoke cured again as well.

Belongings were sorted through and re-packed. Repair work was done on the sledges, several of the runners had to be scabbed onto again and many of the joints were pulled tighter and secured with fresh leather strapping.

The meat baskets were repaired or replaced as needed, they found that the long, wide leafed, tall grass that grew in thick clumps out in the clearing to be a good basket making material. Several women made a scavenging trip to the south, gathering a fresh assortment of tubers and even some cabbage. Mushroom were plentiful, the rains popping them up in several locations, and a basket full of onions was taken from the banks of the creek.

The evening meal was as good or even a little better than the night before. The last haunch of the bongo came out of the ground oven so tender that it actually fell off the bone in large chunks of savory pieces. The cabbage thickened the vegetable stew nicely, the fresh tubers were soft and tasty.

Three sets of guards were set out again, and plans were made to leave out at first light. The stew skin stayed at the edge of the fire to simmer all night.

Brenan and Talut had a hard time staying mum about the waterfall, but they stayed busy enough throughout the day to keep it to themselves. Brenan dreamed about it though, seeing it all over again in his minds eye. It made for a very relaxing nights sleep.

**********

Morning came much quicker than he would have anticipated, but it was very easy for Brenan to get up and around. It didn't hurt that Latie put Bralut on his chest while she went out to fetch fresh tea. The little boy pulled his hair and ears with such glee that Brenan had to wake up laughing. When he thought about his dream, he laughed all the harder.

Bralut didn't understand what Brenan was so happy about, but he couldn't have cared less. Brenan was fun, and that was all that mattered to him as he was tickled and cuddled, giggling and laughing in the new day with the man of his hearth.

Latie stopped and stared at the two of them. My men, she thought to herself with pride, my handsome, silly men.

**********

The camp was on the move before the sun finished clearing the horizon. They traveled straight southeast, maneuvering through the clearings and breaks at a strong, steady pace. They encountered few obstacles of any real concern, cutting a winding path through the scattered, often numerous trees.

They didn't stop for a mid day meal until mid afternoon, and it was a brief stop when they did. Though no one but Talut and Brenan knew the real reason, they all seemed to have a slight sense of urgency in their steps. Having been cooped up with the rains for three days, traveling again was almost a pleasant diversion.

**********

Late in the afternoon, they began to slow to find a good spot to stop for the night. Picking their way through the thickening tree cover, locating a large enough clearing to set up the camp in comfortably looked to be a bit of a challenge.

Talut sent out several pairs of scouts to hunt for a decent place to camp. The rest took a much needed break to sit back and wait.

**********

Rug and Brug scouted to the south side of the group. They meandered through a thick stand of trees brimming with chattering squirrels, coming into a small clearing dotted with the palm plants of varying heights. Stopping at the edge of the trees, they looked over the short, oblong shaped clearing. As they checked it all out, a strange, soft sound got their attention from further to the south.

Rug cocked his head and opened his mouth slightly facing the sounds, listening and concentrating intently. Brug did the same, stepping up beside him.

'I smell water.' Brug signed after a long, silent pause.

'I hear water.' Rug answered, his deep brown eyes glistening. 'Falling water.'

Brug looked up at Rug, a questioning look on his face.

'Sounds like a river that falls.' Rug signed simply.

Brug had to stop and think about that for a moment, he had never seen such a thing. It did sound interesting though, and as he looked back up at Rug he saw the strong man begin to sign again.

'Let's go back, we will camp here tonight.'

**********

The clearing was spotted with short, knee high scraggly bushes that had to be cleared out before the tents were set up. Tall, wispy grass made for a soft floor inside the tents, once all the loose rocks were picked up and removed. The land had to be scraped bare at all the places they needed to set up the fire pits. There were enough loose rocks piled up from clearing the ground where the tents were to ring the pits with, and the brush they cut made for good small fuel to get the fires going. Dead fall was plentiful around the bases of the nearby trees and piled up in heaping stacks around all four fire pits.

With all the work needed to get the small clearing into shape, it was dark before everything was done. Nezzie and Etra got out some of the precooked bongo meat that had been slow cooked the day before in the ground oven and heated it up at the edge of the fire. It had been a long day, and most turned in early.

It felt a little closed in inside the small clearing with the large trees looming all around them, allowing precious little of the starry sky shine through. Three pair of rather nervous guards were posted, and it soon grew quiet. The soft sounds of falling water in the distance was soothing, and enticing.

A crescent moon rose slowly, glowing brightly among the shimmering sea of stars in the small clearing above them.

**********

Shortly after first light, the group headed south toward the low, distant murmur of falling water. The morning was cool with a light breeze, and the tree cover tightened around them as they walked. In many places, they were forced into single file lines as they wound through the trees, the sledges causing a little heartache from time to time having to force them through the tight spots.

It was hard walking at times, but nothing a little teamwork couldn't handle.

**********

By late morning, the trees started to thin in numbers. Larger trees choked out the smaller ones, creating huge patches of shade and much clearer ground to travel through. The grass and flower topped weeds that grew in the canopies of shade were mostly short and in tight little clumps. Dark, bare ground with scattered light and dark grey rock became more and more predominant.

Through a small break in the trees ahead, the deep blue of the river shown through, it erased the weariness of the day's travel, quickening the steps of everyone.

**********

"Wow." Ludeg whispered, stopping on the solid rock shelf that was the bank of the river in the wide patch of shade of a large tree.

A large crowd gathered all around him, within a few moments, everyone was there. They all stood in awe. They stood in silence.

The river was wide, it was a long, long way across to the other side. Crystal clear, shallow water with a light grey rock bottom began directly below the shelf. It deepened slightly and gradually toward the main body of the waterway. At the bank the water was still, many paces out, the surface began to get gently rippled more and more until the current of the river became obvious. Light swells and small white capped ripples dominated the center of the river.

Far to the right, the huge body of water began to narrow slowly and gradually, the clarity of the surface distorted by the swells and ripples as the current obviously increased. A large outcrop of rock pushed the river in, creating a wide expanse of still water to this side of it. All around the edges of this calm pool, canes grew in a thick band, their long, bright green, thin leaves rustling in the soft breeze.

A light green colored fish with dark splotches on its sides swam by lazily in the shallows, the water was so clear that he could be seen in intricate detail. The head of a turtle appeared as he took a deep breath, his thin neck sticking out of the water the width of a man's hand. He then dropped back below the surface to swim slowly down to feed off a single underwater plant that grew from a cleft in the bed of solid rock. The water was clear enough to see his every move as he paddled with all four feet to keep his place in the gentle current.

To their left, the trees seemed to grow right out to the waters edge. Huge roots were exposed above the ground, some actually dipping back down into the river itself, disappearing into thin breaks in the rock bed. Thick vines started from the ground, wrapping around and up against the wide trunks. Heavy with leaves and off chutes, they climbed up the trees and followed wide branches outward and snaked their way over to neighboring trees. Some were so thick and long that they actually inhabited four or five trees in succession.

The far side of the river directly across from them was a little clearer at the edge, smooth light colored brown dirt with patches of deep green, rather short grass lined the banks. A few large, dark grey rocks and boulders stuck up through the bed of green and light brown, casting shadows. A large cluster of these rocks jutted out into the river with a single thin, tall tree growing from the center of the wide formation. A huge green and blue bird perched on a spindly limb close to the top of the tree, its brightly colored feathers almost glowing in the bright sunlight.

To the left of the wide rock formation, another wide area of canes grew along the rivers edge and inland a little way. Starting with short, thin plants, they grew tall in the center of the thick patch, tall with shafts of thick diameters and long leaves. To the left of them, a scattered bunch of banana trees spread out, large groups of green bananas hanging low, bending the thick stalks with the burden of their weight.

Near the shoreline, a small island of mostly rock with a few scattered bushes broke the serenity of the expanse of blue water. Narrow and long, the island had a rough shoreline of wide flat rocks on the side of it that they could see. On two of the flat rocks, crocodiles bathed in the sun.

The river narrowed to the left, and curved back to the right as it gently turned and eventually disappeared from sight in the distance. Lush greens lent a regal appearance to the shores, more banana plants and tall palms dotted the gentle rise of the ground in between stands of large trees.

From the dim light of the shadows directly across the wide river, a bongo stepped slowly out from the trees and walked slowly and carefully down to the shore. He looked around warily, then dropped his head to drink from the cool water.

Everyone stood completely still, watching the beautiful, odd looking animal get a drink. When he lifted his head, he spotted the huge group of people on the opposite side of the river. With a snort, he spun around and bounded through the trees and quickly out of sight.

"Well, there went our mid day meal." Talut said with a chuckle, breaking the long period of uninterrupted silence.

Brug stood between Talut and Branag, thinking much the same thing. The richness of the river lands and the potential of what it all represented was overwhelming. What to hunt first, and where, and how. His mind spun with the magnum of possibilities.

Brenan felt a flush as he looked off to the right. Past the outcrop of stone where the river was dammed up and narrowed, a low mist hung in the air. He could hear the low roar of the falling water, and he could again see the magnificent waterfall in his minds eye. From deep within his mind, he heard Vincavec's words from a few days ago. "...that's what we need to find...a place that almost screams at us that this must be our new home..." Is this that place, he wondered, wanting to justify the deep, emotional feelings that coursed through him. Brenan took a deep breath, the flush he felt inside spread wider, enveloping him with its warmth.

"Talut, I want to explore the shoreline to the south." He said softly from Talut's left side where he stood with Latie who held Bralut in her arms. "I have to see the falls."

Talut grinned at him, and looked around at all his people staring out at the river before them. It was the quietest he had ever seen them, awake that is, the magnificent grandeur of this place seemed to have enchanted them all. Himself included.

"Lets find a good place to make camp close by, and we'll explore the entire area in both directions." His voice didn't have to be loud for all to hear, and when Tornec translated his words for the Clan, nods of agreement went through the ancient people as well.

**********

The chosen campsite was found within the shade of two huge trees a little off to the east, upstream. The river was still easily visible from here, and the site was as perfect as they had found since this long trek had begun. Both tents were placed in such a way as to take advantage of the light breeze, and set far enough apart to allow the central fire to be easily positioned between them near the front openings.

Etra had a large hanging skin of stew going as soon as the initial flames of the fire burned down. She had a lot of help, even though most of the camp split up into three groups to go exploring.

Fralie and Regan set up an area for the younger children and the older babies on a wide pallet of furs within the wide oval of shade of the western most tree. Rugie and Tonie helped out, chasing down and entertaining the energetic children.

**********

Brenan led the small group to the south, following along the riverbank several paces away from the edge of the water. He carried a grinning Bralut on his shoulders who had a double handful of his wavy hair clinched tightly in his strong little hands, and a wide grin plastered across his fat little face. With Latie and Talut on one side and Branag and Brug and his pair of hunters on the other, they took their time, enjoying all there was to see along the way.

As a healer, it was an effort for Brenan to not stop and examine the various plants and weeds that he spotted, all looked so very foreign to him. There would be a lot of time spent learning about the properties and potentials of all these new plants, he knew, but there would be plenty of time for all that later.

Wymez paused, he let go of Jaycie's hand and knelt down to pick up a partially buried stone. It was dark in color, almost black as he wiped the loose dirt from its smooth sides. He examined it for a moment, then dropped it into a pouch on his belt. Wymez grinned as he took Jaycie's hand again and walked quickly to catch back up with the Mog-ur, Rymar, and Rug out in front of them. Jaycie smiled, and leaned down to kiss him on the forehead as they hurried to catch up.

Latie stopped and plucked a wide yellow flower with long, thin petals and a bright red center. The stem oozed with a thin, white liquid for a moment as she brushed a little red bug out from the center of the flower. When she lifted it to her nose for a whiff, the pleasant, but understated aroma filled her head and she couldn't help but to smile. She wiped the white fluid from the stem with the back of her hand and stuck the flower in her reddish blonde hair just above her left ear. The brilliant yellow of the petals and bright red center stuck out dramatically against her hair, enhancing her natural beauty.

The roar of the falls grew louder with each step, and Brenan found it hard not to speed up, in fact, it was all he could do to not break into a full fledged run. The anticipation was killing him. Brug kept up with him, step for step, even though the short, stocky boy had to take over two steps to Brenan's one. Brenan could taste the light wetness in the air.

The mists rose up in front of them as they came to the wide stone ledge at the end of the trees. As excited as they all were, they walked out onto the stone outcrop almost tentatively. It was as if none of them were willing to rush this important moment.

Brenan and Brug were the first to reach the edge of the bluff. They peered over the edge at the beauty below.

The lake that formed at the base of the incredibly wide waterfall was much larger than expected. Ringed with huge trees, it spread out across the floor of the flats below widely before narrowing at what looked to be a dam formation made up of dark grey rock. The river that flowed through the dam was still rather wide, but nothing in comparison to the overall breadth of the lake.

The lake was surrounded by small groups of animals, zebra, impala, okapi, even suidae, along with a few new ones that none of them had yet seen or identified. A large, brown spotted animal with a neck longer than would have been thought possible pulled leaves from a tree, two others just like him did the same. A deer shaped animal with a wide pair of horns that swept away and back from his head drank alone at the lake's edge. A large, light grey bodied trio waded in the shallows, the water up to their thick necks. Incredibly huge, or so it looked from up here, they seemed graceful even with their bulk as they wandered through the water. Long thin shaped crocodiles lounged in the shallows.

Everywhere they looked, they just seemed to see more. Hyenas lounging in the shade, a pack of light colored dholes trotting into a clearing, a naked mammoth wading in the shallows, pulling a clump of bright green from under the surface of the water.

Brenan shifted his gaze and followed the opposite side of the cliff. It was much as he remembered. A strange mixture of solid rock and huge rocks and boulders formed a steep wall, the angle stepping out gently as it reached down to the flats. Rocks were scattered all over the bottom of the ridge there, encroaching the grasslands for a little way out. A small herd of the dark colored buffalo with the black, oddly curved horns grazed amongst them. Brenan's eyes wandered back along the steep bluff, back to the lake. He followed the falling water back up from the clouds of mist, all the way to the top.

The waterfall itself was spectacular. Appearing between this wide rock outcrop and another that looked amazingly similar on the far side, the river plunged gracefully over the edge of the cliff. The water splayed out as it fell, dramatically plunging the entire length of the drop off in a wide, showering spray. Thin wisps of white streaks of mist accented the light blue plumes in a magnificent fashion. The final leg of its falling journey ended, erupting into a mass of white clouds of rising, swirling mist at the bottom.

About half way down the falls, the widest, most brilliant rainbow any of them had ever seen began. It started well within the bands of white and light blue of the horizontal misty fingers, stretching out and away from the falls, bright and colorful. Somewhere out over the center of the lake, it began to dissipate, finally disappearing into the backgrounds of green and tan.

The chills washed over Brenan's entire body. It was that feeling again, the same feeling he felt when they came across the valley that became the home of the Cave Bear Camp. But this time it was stronger, so very much stronger.

Bralut tugged Brenan's hair, giggling with delight.


	30. Chapter 23 Part 1

**Chapter Twenty Three**

_**The River**_

**Part one**

"Upstream, the woods continue for quite a while, thick, tight trees with little grass. The hunting there will be tough. It is not land that will support herds of any kind that we know of." Ludeg said.

"Brug found plenty of tracks, we think it may be bongo and something else that is a little smaller. Wymez says that there are several species of forest dwelling deer and antelope, this is probably what we saw signs of. There were also a lot of signs of the suidae or the river hogs, it was hard to tell which."

The gather was large, most of the adults were in attendance, and of course, all the hunters. It was the second day here, and they had established a very nice campsite. Comfortable, with easy access to all the necessary amenities for supporting such a large group of people. Scouting parties had fanned out and spent the day exploring, and now the central fire was the location of the general discussion of what all was learned.

"The river teems with life, fish, crocodile, turtles, small animals of all kinds, and signs of animals we are unfamiliar with as well." Ludeg continued. "We came across a creek, too, a wide one that empties into the river."

A brief silence ensued, then several local discussions began. After a short time, Talut addressed Troog sitting with the scouting party he had led.

"Troog, what did you find?"

Troog's brows wrinkled in thought as Tornec signed Talut's words, before he slowly set his tea cup on the ground beside him and began to sign in answer.

'Cliff is bad, not easy to get down.'

Salen and Thorec sat on one side of him, with the Mog-ur on the other. Ooga sat in Mog-ur's lap, her head resting on his shoulder and a small tuft of his course beard in her fingers.

"Troog is right, there is no easy way down, we would have to move huge rocks to make a path the entire descent." Thorec added with a resigned look on his face.

"Back to the northwest, it only gets worse." Salen chimed in. "The drop off is really steep for a long way. To hunt the flats from there will be really hard, and it would be even harder to bring anything back up."

'Is not good place.' Troog signed simply, shaking his head slowly.

Talut let his words hang, it was not at all what he wanted to hear. He took a fresh cup of tea from Nezzie who then sat down beside him, little Manut reaching out for him from her arm as she sat. Talut took the boy in one arm and cuddled him to his hairy chest. Manut grabbed a handful of bright red and grey streaked beard and tugged. Talut grinned and looked over at Brenan, hoping the confident look on his face held better news than Troog and his party had just given.

"Brenan, what's on the other side?"

Brenan sipped his tea, surrounded by Latie, Danug, Rug, and Draag on one of the four wide logs that had been brought in and set up for seating. Bralut slept in Latie's lap, belly full and content. They sat directly across from Troog and his search party. Brenan said nothing, but instead looked to Rug and nodded.

'The river stays shallow until almost half way across, then gets deep in wide channel.' Rug signed slowly and meticulously, Tornec had little trouble keeping up with the burden of translating with the slower than usual signs.

'This channel is swift, water moves fast.' Rug paused, looking at Brenan before going on. 'Crossing with supplies will be hard here. Should go upstream to cross, less current on this side of bend in river.'

"The land on the other side, this is where we want to be." Brenan added when Tornec caught up with his translation. "It must be seen to be believed. It has everything we need."

A murmur went through the gather, Brenan's face showed his excitement of what they had found. Never known to be overly excitable, this young man was considered to be older than his years by the elders of the camp. His opinion carried a lot of weight, especially with Talut.

"There is a small break in the woods, a narrow meadow of grasslands rich with vegetation to the east. Before the meadow, we found a creek that is dammed up to form a small pond, that eventually runs back to the river where it empties just on the other side the bend." Danug added. "Tracks of all kinds were all over the place."

'The bluff there has three ledges down the face, we can make a way down to the flats. Will take work, lots of work.' Rug signed as Danug finished. 'From there, we hunt flats easy.'

Talut grinned broadly and Manut crawled up his chest using Talut's abundant chest hair as hand holds. When he reached his shoulder, Manut grasped an ear and held on tightly. Talut didn't seem to notice, his eyes were sparkling in the firelight at the scouts favorable report.

"Go on."

"The pond is covered on one side with those cane plants, and there are a lot of smaller trees we can harvest for building materials around too." Brenan answered, then went on. "Most of the land near the edge of the bluff is rocky, but the dark dirt begins again under the trees and the rocky ground dissipated a lot as we got away from the bluff. The flats below teem with life, herds of all kinds, just like we saw before."

Danug broke in when Brenan paused to gather his thoughts.

"There is a place that has several of those large, tall trees that form a wide semicircle. There are only a few smaller trees and brush there between them and we can clear this out easy. It looked like a great place to build." Danug's face got a little red as he spoke, and Tressie gave his thigh a pinch that made him jump. She had heard about nothing but the other side of the river ever since they had returned late in the afternoon.

Brenan dropped his eyes to the dark dirt at his feet. It was hard to not be overly enthusiastic right now, he had never seen a better potential home site in his entire life. He had not had the time to think it all through though, to weigh the lay of the land in his mind against all the needs of such a large group of people. He raised his eyes slowly, and found Talut looking right at him. Bralut grinned in his sleep, then passed gas loudly making Latie giggle and wrinkle her nose. It broke Brenan's serious train of thought, and he looked up at Talut as Manut grabbed the huge headman's nose and latched on.

"I think you will find the home we have searched for, it's waiting for us on the other side of this river."

**********

Brug led, he wanted to hunt the place they had found yesterday. He had barely gotten any sleep last night, and spent most of the second watch with Ludeg and Thorec. Brug hadn't been this anxious to hunt in a while, the abundance of signs he had found yesterday were absolutely eating him up inside. Having been unable to hunt for the last few days was not something he was used to, and though he understood the reasons, he didn't like it at all. A compromise with Talut had been found.

His companions now included Branag, but nothing else had really changed, he was still the lead hunter of this band. Branag had on his new camouflaged clothing, and brought up the rear following a few steps behind Druwez. Branag was the only one to carry a spear thrower, the boys preferred regular throwing spears.

Brug paused, the small signs of their footprints from yesterday were easy enough to follow, even in this dim light the sparse, freshly bent grass was obvious. He wanted to approach a certain spot he remembered from a slightly different direction this time. It was still too dark to see much, one thing he had learned was that the light of the new day took longer to penetrate through the shadows of the woods. This was an advantage if used correctly, and he intended to do just that.

There was a small break in the trees to his right, but he wanted to go more to the left. There, the thinner trees were numerous and it was harder to see very far out in front of them. Brug made his decision, and veered off to the left, slowly to keep his footfalls as quiet as possible in the fallen leaves. A squirrel popped his head around the trunk of a tree just to Brug's left, chattering as it beat a hasty retreat back up the tree and to safety. Brug scowled at the intrusion, and kept going.

Branag adjusted one of the two sprigs that kept tickling the side of his face sticking up from the loop on his left shoulder. He wasn't used to these new clothes and found himself distracted by the natural materials stuck into all the small loops. Branag twisted the thick stem, and the plume of tan colored leaves turned away from his face a little.

Brug froze, hearing something. He cocked his head toward the sound and opened his mouth slightly. Brug caught a faint taste of water in the air, and he was able to distinguish the sounds of running water faintly. Turning his body to pass between two close growing trees, he moved slowly toward the sounds. The light of the new day was increasing slowly, and Brug caught a brief glimmer of water as it sparkled in the growing sunlight.

With a slow gesture, Mortan and Druwez moved to fan out behind him. Branag watched the silent communication, then slowed to allow them time to get into position before following Brug a dozen paces back. He lowered his body into a crouch, waiting patiently.

Mortan had to go slow, the ground cover was rife with brittle fallen leaves. He used his lead foot to gently push the leaves from underfoot, then pressed his body weight down and repeated the technique with his other foot. It was slow going, but necessary.

Druwez had it easier, and was in position to Brug's right flank quickly. The two of them made eye contact and found covered places to hide in with the small clearing at the edge of the creek out in front of them.

Mortan made his way up to a short palm plant, and brushed the ground clear of noise making obstacles before settling in. He lay two spears on the ground beside him, and had a third in his hand as he got comfortable.

Branag spotted up directly behind Brug, seven or eight paces back. He found a vantage point between two thin trees, and dropped to his knees.

Brug looked slowly around him, checking his fellow hunters. He made a subtle gesture to Druwez, who reached up and twisted the stalk protruding up from his right shoulder a half turn. Brug watched, then nodded and turned his attention to Mortan. Mortan was so well hidden that if Brug hadn't seen where he had positioned himself he might not have been able to see him at all.

Turning back, Brug made a gesture to Branag. Branag winced inside, and tried to ascertain what Brug was telling him. Brug made the same gesture again, and Branag slid back a little. He got a bit of a scowl for his effort, and Brug made slow, over emphasized signs that said simply, crouch lower.

Branag did as he was asked, a little embarrassed at having to have been told. It was still a little too dark for Brug to see how red Branag's face got.

They settled in to wait.

**********

One thing they learned quickly was that the trees here varied dramatically in the hardness and density of their wood. Talut busted an axe three strokes into the trunk of a rather narrow tree that he thought would make a good raft pole. Wymez and the Mog-ur were little help in this venture, neither knew much about trees, so the experimentation began.

To get everything across the river, a raft was needed, that much was obvious. To build a raft from the trees immediately available became the challenge.

Wymez was put to work making new axe heads, and he sent Brenan and Thorec out to look for fresh flint. He had very little flint supplies held in reserve that were large enough to make the heavy tools from. Wymez had pre-shaped a number of spear points, of the three sizes that were used the most, but that was about it. The added weight of carrying raw flint nodules as they traveled had prohibited him from keeping much of a supply raw stone.

Tulie used a couple of the smaller branches of the extremely hard tree that Talut had ruined the axe head on to fashion a couple of new axe handles. Cutting them off was a prolonged chore, this wood was very hard, even on the smaller limbs. Even scraping the bark off these limbs proved difficult, but she used a scraper that Ranec had given her to strip them slowly.

Ludeg met up with Talut and Rug to the west of the camp, carrying a twig with leaves on it.

"Talut, look for trees with leaves like this." He said as he approached. Rug stepped away from the trunk of a tree he had made a few practice chops on, and turned to face Ludeg as well. This tree had been as hard as the last two they had tried.

Talut took the small twig, examining the shape of the leaves.

"These don't seem quite as common, but they are much softer and float high in the water." Ludeg said, grinning. "They don't grow as big either, so we'll need to find a lot of them."

Talut handed the twig to Rug, and started looking around him, searching for the leaf pattern that showed promise. Ludeg turned to leave, going back the way he had come.

**********

Brug saw a dark colored bird shaped like an eagle set his wings and glide gracefully up to the upper most limb of a wide spread tree across the creek. His wings, neck, and head were black as the night, so was his long, slightly curved beak. His chest and long legs were bright white with black speckles. Brug admired the handsome bird, studying him carefully so he could describe him to Wymez later.

The bird of prey suddenly dropped off the branch, setting his wings out wide and dropping quickly down to the water of the creek. Brug lost sight of him behind the leaves of a short tree, but heard the soft splash and heard the soft sounds as the dark bird flapped his wings hard as he gained altitude, going away from him. A light brown snake wriggling in his talons. The eagle disappeared over the treetops out of sight.

Brug was brought away from watching the feathered hunter by a soft, low pitched whistle from his right. Moving only his eyes, he scanned his surroundings in that direction, looking for what Druwez had seen.

On the opposite side of the creek, a tall, solidly built animal walked slowly into sight out from behind a thick palm plant. She stopped to graze on thin, tall sprigs of grass, lifting her head to watch all around her as she chewed. Light, dusky brown in color, she had soft white accents around her eyes and dark nose. She had a few thin light colored stripes that ran down from the peak of her back leading to slightly lighter colored belly and long legs with dark hooves. Brug assumed her to be female, she had no horns.

Branag heard the whistle, and finally spotted the large animal that looked to be of the deer family. He wondered what Brug had planned, the deer was well out of their range.

Mortan looked to Brug for instructions. If he moved now he might be able to get out in front of the deer and into a blocking position. Brug looked at him and made a small sign, 'wait'. Mortan drew a deep breath, turning his attention back on the deer, watching and learning from every move she made.

The deer finished chewing, and turned toward the creeks edge. She walked slowly to the water and after looking around cautiously dropped her head to drink. She lifted her head quickly, looking back behind her. Staring into the woods, she stayed stock still for a long time.

A squirrel chattered in the woods across the creek. After a few moments, it got quiet again but for the scattered birdsongs that came from all around. The deer waded out into the shallow water and turned back to face the woods behind her.

Brug caught a glimpse of movement from the thick woods across the creek. It was just a glimpse, but he focused on it anyway, thinking it a bird or a squirrel.

The deer suddenly jerked and leapt forward in three splashing bounds, then spun around, biting at something on her side back toward her rear leg. There was a small, almost dainty spear protruding from her side as she turned, so small that it couldn't have done any damage at all to speak of.

Brug was perplexed. His eyes went back and forth between the deer and to the woods beyond where he had seen the movement. The deer couldn't seem to reach the small spear, and took a few shaky steps, turning to her left as she did in a small circle. Brug watched as she tried to take another step and suddenly tumbled over, splashing as she fell into the shallow water of the creek.

When he looked back up, there were suddenly dark skinned men in the small clearing, walking slowly toward the deer. Each of them had grass and twigs tied to their arms and legs, and had bright colored bird feathers stuck in their hair. They all carried the odd looking thin, bent spears with the twine tied on them. Brug held his breath as they waded out into the creek and pulled the deer ashore.

Branag watched, hoping that they were not seen. He counted nine of them, and knew that he wanted no quarrel. He tried to see the three boys, but Druwez had been out of his line of sight for a while now, and Mortan was invisible to him as well. He could see Brug, and was relieved to see he hadn't moved.

The dark skinned hunters gathered around the deer, and it suddenly dawned on Branag that one single spear had dropped this powerful looking animal. What kind of weapon was this, he wondered in awe, and a wave of fresh chill bumps ran down his spine.

**********

The trees with the softer wood weren't as uncommon as Talut first thought, in fact there were quite a few of them around once they knew what to look for. Rarely bigger around than Talut's huge biceps, they cut easily compared to most trees here that they had encountered. Wymez and Tulie had brought out a few new axes, and Talut watched the chips fly as Danug chopped around the base of one of the trees.

It never ceased to amaze Talut, the new axe heads were as sharp as they could be, and still thick enough to wield with force enough to make rather short work of the task. With a crack, the tree shifted sideways a few degrees. Danug reached up and gave the trunk a shove, another loud pop and the tree fell slowly over to the ground.

Talut waded into the midst of the wide spread branches as the tree settled, chopping off the off chute branches with ease. Danug stepped back and wiped the sweat from his forehead, grinning as he watched the big man work, they did make quite a pair. This would be the fourth tree they had dropped, and the pile of off fall grew wider and higher as Talut tossed out the limbs he cut.

Danug set his axe down and straightened up the wide pile, getting hit in the calf by a limb a grinning Talut tossed at him.

**********

Thorec stooped down, flipping a rock that was half buried in the dark dirt. He made a disgusted face as he stood back up. Looking to his northeast, he watched Brenan on his hands and knees at the edge of the river.

So far, the search had been less than successful. Thorec had found a single flint nodule, but it was small and brittle. When he had cracked the surface, the stone was chock full of foggy looking streaks, not a good sign of decent stone at all. The two men had started their search going up river, and they explored the dark grounds up to fifteen steps out from the waters edge.

Animal track and signs were plentiful, but so far, not the elusive stone they sought.

Brenan dropped two stones to his right side, splashing into the river as he reached down into the water to pull another rock from the bottom. Nothing. He dropped this oddly shaped oval grey rock aside and reached down for another.

**********

Latie and Regan walked casually along the river banks toward the sounds of the falls. Each carried their babies in the crooks of their arms, and had a spear in their other hands.

"It is such a beautiful place, do you really think we will make our home here?" Regan asked, prodding the ground in front of her with the butt of her spear.

"I hope so," Latie answered. "It would be so nice to finally stop traveling."

Regan smiled, this had been one long journey. Werlen squirmed in her arm, trying to climb up her chest. Regan readjusted the baby boy, offering him her bare breast. Werlen grasped on with a vengeance, acting much hungrier than a boy who had drained both breasts a little while before.

"Do you think we will build a lodge big enough for all of us, or small lodges like they were building at the Aurochs Camp?"

Latie wrinkled her brow in thought, she wasn't sure which style of camp she preferred. The Lion Camp lodge and the Cave Bear Camp lodge were both big enough for the entire camp to live in, and it was all she really knew. Branag and Deegie had built one large lodge, and were in the process of building several smaller, family sized lodges at the Aurochs Camp at the time they left. This idea intrigued her, though she had no real exposure to this small 'individual family' lodge format, she had to admit it did pique her interest.

"I think it would be hard to build a single lodge big enough to house all of us." Latie mused as Bralut leaned his fuzzy head out away from her chest to watch the ground go by as they walked. "I like the idea of smaller lodges, but with Brenan as first healer and me as Lion Camp Mamut, I am afraid out lodge will have to be big enough to house guests even if we try the smaller lodges."

"Do you think we will all stay together, in one camp I mean?" Regan asked, pulling Werlen's tight grip loose from her unoccupied breast. He grasped her finger and squeezed it.

"I hope so, it would be much safer if we all stuck together in this strange place." Latie looked over to Regan and grinned. "Besides, I like the way the Clan women cook."

**********

Ludeg and Salen dropped the log onto the pile. This softer wood was much lighter and easier to carry than heavy, dense wood they were more used to back home. The pile of stripped logs was growing, and the ragged pile of off fall was three times the size of the logs.

When they looked up, they saw Talut and Danug carrying a log on each shoulder approaching. Mekan and Tornec followed them carrying a single log, and an armload each of more off fall.

The piles grew as the new materials were dropped off. Ludeg grinned as he turned to go back after more wood.

**********

Frebec wandered over near to the wood piles, dragging a long, leaf covered vine behind him. Rymar walked leisurely beside him, but carried no load. Crisavec followed a half dozen paces behind him, carrying another, shorter piece of vine himself.

The young boy was struggling a bit, the vine weighing him down as it dragged the ground, occasionally getting tangled on small obstructions. Crisavec was a thin, short boy, and not overly strong for his age. He had yet to see his eighth year. He had become Frebec's constant shadow of late, beginning to abandon the realm of the younger children and trying to emulate the man of his hearth. Frebec loved the attention, he spent as much time with the youth as he could, teaching and enjoying his company.

"If we soak the thinner runners they should be pliable enough to use as strapping, but I don't know what they will be like when they dry out." Frebec was saying as Rymar listened, examining the small piece of cut vine in his hand.

"It feels strong, it should do just fine." Rymar answered.

"It was hard to cut, the insides are stringy and tough." Frebec grinned as he continued. "I'll need to get one Wymez to put a fresh edge on my knife, it getting a little dull."

Rymar chuckled, his friend Wymez had been in constant demand of late, though the old tool maker seemed to revel in the attention of his highly sought after skills.

Crisavec caught up to the two older men when they stopped to talk, his face was red and he was breathing hard. He was glad they had reached their destination.

**********

Etra and Inca chopped up precooked bongo meat into small pieces on a wide pelvic bone platter. Nezzie and Ooga sliced tubers next to them, adding the light brown root bulbs to the pile. Tessie set up a hanging skin on a tripod, and poured fresh water into it near the edge of the fire.

The women worked quietly, content to get another large meal going.

Behind them in the shade, four sleeping skins were laid on top of the soft grass. Fralie, Deegie, and Rugie kept an eye on most of the smaller children and babies in the cool morning. Ralev helped, playing more than watching.

**********

Brug watched as the dark skinned hunters methodically butchered the odd looking deer. Two stayed out on the perimeter, standing guard while the others worked.

Though appearing to be in no particular hurry, the hunters were very efficient and the chore went quickly. As each large piece of meat was removed, it was taken back to the creek and washed before packing it into a piece of the hide of the deer. It looked like they were slicing most of the meat off the bones completely, leaving no bones to carry back.

Brug stayed completely still, afraid of being spotted, and hoping that his companions were still hidden well. The young hunter was extremely interested in everything they did, and how they did it. He watched their every move.

Branag watched with interest as well, his curiosity concerning the small spear downing the deer so easily was as acute as it could be. He hoped to see more of this weapon, and how it worked. His eyes were everywhere, but his body never moved, he blended into his surroundings completely.

One of the dark skinned men carried a long section of intestines to the creeks edge, and began washing them out in the shallow water. Another man followed with another length of the long internal organ, and finally a third brought down the stomach of the deer to clean.

Those left at the carcass sliced meat off the legs and thick neck of the deer, piling the strips of meat onto sections of the hide. One man folded up a section of the hide piled high with meat up, wrapping it with a thong of leather and finally tying it all off.

A short shout of warning rang out from the guard to the right, and all of the men stopped what they were doing and scrambled to their feet. The guard watched the brush to his left, and slowly pulled the bent spear up from his waist.

Brug almost gasped aloud as he watched what the dark skinned men all did next. Every one of them pulled the bent spears up and pulled a small spear from their scabbards. They somehow attached the feathered butts of the spears into the taught twine tied to each end of the bent sticks.

The guard to the right then stretched the twine, and pulled the bent stick up and looked down the shaft of the small spear while holding the bent stick with his other hand. The other hunters around him soon held much the same posture, as they all watched and waited.

The brush out in front of the guard twitched, and the spotted head of a leopard emerged. The cat was about the size of a snow leopard, but a little more lithe and lean. He froze, then lowered his body as he took a few tentative steps forward.

Brug's eyes went back and forth between the leopard and the guard as the standoff began. Suddenly, a small spear appeared in the front shoulder of the cat, making him jump to the side and wince. Brug looked quickly back to the hunter who was calmly placing another small spear into the center of the twine. He watched as the hunter pulled tension on the twine again, and saw how the larger spear bent as the tension pulled its ends closer together. He let it go as the cat bit through the small shaft of the spear and straightened up to come at the hunter with a bound. The small spear flew away from the hunter so fast that Brug could barely follow it to the leopard as it hit him in the flank.

The leopard winced again, and looked to move almost in slow motion as it turned and bit this shaft off too, and then slowly trotted on unsteady legs back out of sight through the brush. The guard casually followed the leopard, placing another small spear into position on the twine as he walked. The rest of the hunters went back to what they were doing, except for one who followed the guard and another pair who took up new guard positions. They all appeared to be completely unconcerned about the obviously wounded spotted predator.

Brug couldn't believe what he had just seen, none of his hunters could. They had all been watching from their hiding places, and stayed still as they watched these odd events all play out before them.

A few moments later, the two hunters emerged from the brush dragging the leopard between them by his front feet. The throat had been slit wide open, and the front of the leopard was stained dark red with blood. They man handled the cat down near the creek bank, and started skinning him out. Short, terse conversation went on amongst the hunters, but even Brug, who was closest, couldn't make out any of their words.

The cat was skinned out in no time, and one of the hunters managed to pull the largest of his teeth and all his claws. The only piece of meat taken from the leopard was the long, thin back strap, the rest they left behind as they all disappeared quickly into the brush.

Brug took a deep breath, the first he had taken in quite a while. He kept a careful eye on the brush across the creek, making sure they didn't return for any reason. When he was sure they were gone, he backed out of his hiding place quietly, then made a low pitched croaking sound that was remarkably close to the sound of a bullfrog.

Mortan and Druwez slowly came out of their hiding places and the three of them backtracked quietly to where Branag waited.

"Bran-nuh", Brug began in a hushed voice, signing rapidly as he continued. 'What kind of weapon is that they used?'

Branag had to concentrate to gather in the meaning of Brug's hurried signs, the words formed slowly in his mind. 'Don't know, never see before.'

Brug looked up into the older man's face, his deep brown eyes sparkling with excitement and more than a hint of mischief. 'I want one.'

Branag understood this sign easily enough, and grinned down at the stocky boy, nodding his head in agreement. Mortan and Druwez nodded their heads as well, grinning from ear to ear.

'Let's go back, maybe "Wymez" know.' Branag signed, and the four of them started back, Brug leading as usual.

**********

Mog-ur sat on the rocky ledge at the bank of the river, his feet dangling in the cool water. He had his hands up in front of his scarred chest, fingertips all pressed together in a steeple formation. He wore short leggings that stopped well above his knees, and his carved ivory plaque. The plaque had the Clan side out, with the stylized Ursus looking across the creek along with him.

Though he looked to be meditating, he really wasn't. He was simply enjoying the coolness of the afternoon in the shade, and watching the wildlife at the river. It was a rare chance to relax, the first time in many, many days that they were not in a hurry to go on.

Mog-ur had already seen a huge snake swim by, as well as several fish, one that had stopped to nibble on his toes briefly. Across the river, he had witnessed a bongo get a drink, a pair of deep grey colored fox skirting through the trees, and a river hog pulling up weeds by the clump, chomping them down quickly.

The sight he kept going back to though, was of the pair of eyes that kept popping up slowly up onto the surface of the still water off to his right. They would be there, then slip back under water for a while, then reappear again a short distance from where he had seen them last. Once, he even saw the spikes that ran the length of his tail as he floated gently up to the surface, so he knew it was a croc-dal.

An interesting animal that he was rather familiar with, through his extensive memories that is. A tasty animal too, he thought, remembering the succulent flavor of the tender white meat. The croc disappeared for a while, and Mog-ur kept a sharp watch on the surface of the water between where he had last seen the huge reptile and where he was sitting.

Mog-ur's mind wandered, the serenity of this peaceful place was slowly swallowing him whole. He took a deep breath, simply enjoying the beauty of it all. The Land of the Sun had thus far exceeded his every expectation, by far. He closed his eyes and offered up a silent word of thanks to Ursus for leading them here, and allowing most of them to survive the arduous journey to get here.

**********

Thorec chipped off a small piece of the chalky exterior of the oblong stone, it was a medium grey color inside. He smiled as he scrutinized the color, it appeared to be consistent, but without the foggy streaks the last two nodules had hidden within the stone.

"Brenan, come look." He said loud enough for Brenan to hear from several steps away.

Brenan looked up, a large stone in his hands. He nodded and tossed the heavy rock ashore as he backed away from the edge of the creek. Brenan carried the wet stone over to Thorec, and knelt down beside him.

The stone did look good, Thorec had chipped off a good deal of the outer surface while waiting for Brenan, and the stone had good color and seemed to be relatively easy to work.

Brenan took the odd shaped stone in both hands, examining it carefully. He began asking questions as to how the stone felt as Thorec worked it, and the exhausting stone talk began.

"Maybe this one will be good also." Brenan replied, grabbing Thorec's hammer stone and sitting down, pulling the wet rock over in front of him.

**********

The thinnest parts of the vines worked well as cordage to tie the pieces of the raft together. When soaked, they were pliable and easy to handle—and strong. The fibrous inner core was almost impossible to pull apart, and was difficult to cut even with a good sharp knife.

Frebec and Crisavec sorted through the dripping vines, cutting off usable pieces and cutting them into lengths a little longer than Crisavec was tall. Frebec really enjoyed working with the son of his hearth, even though the boy asked more questions than Frebec would have thought possible.

Rymar helped by cutting the thin straggler off chutes from the vines, and grinned constantly at Frebec going rapidly from one answer to the next. It reminded him of the time he spent teaching Brug and Mortan to hunt, curiosity seemed to be a predominant trait at this age, he mused.

Crisavec asked another question.

**********

The outer frame of the long, narrow raft was taking shape quickly. The supply pile was probably larger than they would need to finish the raft, and there were a lot of hands available to put it together.

They used the same basic design that they had used when they had been attacked by the Eastern Savages. The front and rear perpendicular poles stretched out well past the body of the raft to allow people to hang on there and kick the raft forward with their legs.

Most of the work being done now was cutting the flooring poles to length, chopping the soft wood of this particular type of tree sped up the task considerably. Two extra long poles were already cut to size, and laid off to the side to be tied onto the top of the flooring poles once they were all in place.

Talut and Danug made a competition of cutting the flooring poles to length, friendly, but no less intense. Danug was slightly ahead, but Talut liked to flurry at the end of the log and catch up or go ahead.

**********

Brug led his hunters back into camp, he looked for Wymez and made a beeline for the older man who was busy tying a flooring log into place at the front of the raft. Salen held the pole in place while Wymez tied off the vine. He was intent on what he was doing, and didn't hear them approach.

Talut looked over at the hunters, and thought it odd that they returned to camp this early in the afternoon without any game to show for their efforts. He noticed the expressions on the serious young hunter's faces, and stopped chopping to watch. From this far away, Talut couldn't make out any of the conversation, so he reluctantly went back to work, Danug's lead was increasing.

'Need to talk, need answers.' Brug signed, being very meticulous with his hands as he did. Brug made a habit of signing with simple words when he spoke to Wymez, a habit he had begun when Rymar was teaching him to hunt.

Wymez was becoming more and more fluent in the Clan language, and understood Brug easily. He finished the knot and stood up slowly, his back popping pleasantly as he did. Salen let go of the log, and walked back over to where Talut and Danug were still going at it. Wymez looked around for the Mog-ur, but didn't see him. He was used to Mog-ur being at his side during these Land of the Sun inquiries.

The five of them walked back to the camp, Wymez sitting on a log along with Branag and Druwez, while Brug and Mortan sat on the ground in front of him.

Brug looked up into Wymez sparkling hazel colored eyes and gathered his thoughts before he began to sign. He made a conscious effort to sign slowly and carefully.

'We saw dark skinned men again. They have a hunting weapon I have never seen before.' Brug paused, thinking about how to best describe the odd weapon.

Branag watched Brug, wondering how he was going to try to describe this weapon in the language of the Clan in a way that Wymez could understand.

Brug held up his hands up, and slowly made the shape of the bent spear. He then made an elaborate show of putting a small spear perpendicular to the bent spear and pulled his arm back.

He stopped and began to sign again.

'Small spear fly from bent stick with twine. How is this possible?'

Wymez looked at the boy, trying to grasp what he had been shown. There was nothing in his memories that even came close to what he thought Brug was describing. The blank look on his face gave away much.

Branag looked to Brug who nodded, then spoke to Wymez.

"The small spear flew pretty fast, but it didn't penetrate the deer very deep." Branag got a little red in the face as he went on, he knew the next part was going to sound awfully far fetched.

"The small spear killed the deer, and it happened fast. He didn't run, and he moved like he was in slow motion."

The last thing Branag said struck Wymez as funny, that sounded impossible. Branag's face got redder. Wymez looked at Branag, trying to wipe the smile from his face.

Branag pulled his knife out of his belt, and drew a crude picture in the dirt in front of them. He added the small spear after allowing Wymez to see the bow first without it.

Wymez studied the drawing, and listened as Branag again tried to talk him through what they had seen. It was interesting, but totally unfamiliar.

"I have seen many strange things in these lands, but nothing like what you are describing." Wymez looked back over at Brug and continued.

"Perhaps the Mog-ur can shed some light on this, let's ask him."

They finally found Mog-ur still seated at the edge of the creek, still dangling his feet in the water. Brug approached him as slowly and respectfully as his excitement allowed.

'We saw new weapons from the dark skinned ones, would you listen to our questions?' The boy's signs were respectful and well spoken, as was expected when speaking to the spiritual leader of the Clan.

Mog-ur nodded, and pulled his feet out of the water and stood up slowly. When he turned to face the group, he saw a bit of confusion in Wymez' eyes. The Mog-ur's curiosity was piqued, and he turned to sit back down in the shade, facing them.

They sat in a semicircle in front of him, and Brug began to describe the weapon again. This time he was more elaborate in his descriptions and motions as he made the pantomime of the dark skinned men and how they used the weapon.

Mog-ur sat impassively, watching and listening to the descriptions and end results of what all the hunters saw. His mind was sharp, asking questions to further the account of what was seen, especially about the reactions of the deer when he was hit.

With the language barrier hindering the discussion, it went on even longer than a hunt dissection.

**********

Etra stirred the stew, it was thickening nicely. The bongo meat was mostly lean, but some parts of the meat near the upper parts of the ribs were richly marbled in fat. The tubers were expanding, breaking the thin reddish colored skins at they swelled. The smells that rose up with the wisps of steam permeated the entire are. She had already shooed Talut away twice, when he ventured in to steal a bite. Nezzie had helped, and Talut gave up without too much of a fight, after a couple of test swallows.

Little Ooga came up to help, and took the stirring stick from Etra and took over. Etra watched her for a moment, them fetched a small pinch of a deep green herb and sprinkled it into the stew while Ooga continued to stir.

**********

'...I must meditate on this, nothing you have described to me sounds familiar at all.' Mog-ur signed, to Brug's disappointment.

Though he tried to keep it off his face, Mog-ur saw through the boy and gave him a hint of a stern look. Brug lowered his head demurely, embarrassed at his impatience. It was all so hard sometimes, he thought, hunting is so important. We should all be as anxious as I am about a new potential weapon.

Wymez grinned openly, as did Branag. The chastisement was subtle, but it affected Brug as much as it would have if it had been stronger and more open.

Brug lifted his eyes back to the Mog-ur. 'Thank you spirit leader, I did not mean to offend.'

'You are a good hunter, I will inform you of anything I find in the memories.' Mog-ur gave Brug a soft, affectionate look as the boy nodded, then bowed his head slightly in an open show of respect.

Brug stood up and turned to go back to the camp, Mortan and Druwez followed. The three older men were left alone in the cool shade.

**********

Etra looked over to the southern perimeter fire, he still hadn't moved, and he never ate anything before he meditated. Etra worried about him, and kept a watchful eye on him almost constantly. She would not sleep as long as he was awake and still at the fire. Mog-ur sat facing away from the camp, deep in meditation in front of the flames. His body almost shimmered in the flickering firelight from here.

Mog-ur followed a thread of a memory that was buried deep within his mind. It came into focus slowly, hunters stalking slowly down a wooded riverbank. The hunters wore only loin cloths, and heavy spears with sharpened, fire hardened points. This wasn't really what he was looking for, so Mog-ur shifted his concentration into a slightly different direction.

The more he searched, the sharper his focus became. He allowed himself to stop and pick out a blurry image, more hunters. These hunters were getting ready to begin a chase, out in front of them a small herd of the huge, dark buffalo grazed in knee high grass. A single female was getting farther and farther off to herself, following sprigs of bright green, low growing grass. The hunters crouched low, and started to fan out...Mog-ur backed out of the memory, this wasn't what he was looking for either.

This was interesting, he thought as he opened a new memory, glimpsing within it. A pair of hunters hidden in between three close growing bushes. The vantage point he had was as if he sat right behind the two men, looking over their shoulders. They were situated near what looked to be a game trail of some sort. The men were so still if the light breeze didn't wiggle the abundant leaves it would have looked like a single image frozen in time.

Just before he lost interest and moved on, a pair of dark skinned hunters carrying long, thin, flexible spears wandered in front of the hidden hunters. They watched the ground intently, searching for something that they obviously knew was nearby. Mog-ur could actually hear the strange spoken language that they uttered between them. One of the men spotted whatever they were looking for, and with a few more of the odd sounding words the two of them crouched low to the ground.

The two of them didn't stay long, but when they stood up one of them had a small section of a very deep green plant with dark brown spots on it in his hands. He held the plant well away from his body, as if it could hurt him. The other man held out his spear point to him. The man with the plant then squeezed the fleshy looking piece until a small dollop of deep auburn colored liquid oozed from the ragged edge where it had been severed. He carefully pulled the small flint tipped spear point up and smeared the reddish ooze onto the flint, coating it completely.

When he finally finished, the other man pulled the spear back, and held out another spear. The procedure was repeated slowly.

Once both spear points were coated, the man with the plant knelt down and dug a small hole in the dark brown dirt beside him with a small pointed stick. The other man held both spears out away from his body, the points glistening with the deep auburn liquid. When the small hole was deep enough to satisfy him, the dark man carefully set the remainder of the plant section into the hole and slowly covered it up with the loose dirt. He stood up and gently patted the dirt down with his foot. His partner waited until he was done, then handed him his spear back.

They stood together silently for a long time, facing each other simply watching the slimy liquid dry in the soft breeze. The memory slowly faded.

Mog-ur thought about this for a while, concentrating on the shape and color of the plant. He etched it securely into his memories, it was bound to be important, but as yet, he wasn't quite sure why. He took a deep breath and continued his search.

Another hidden view, this time along the banks of a creek. Again, hunters hiding and watching. Strange noises all around, coming from the trees and from the ground all around to the front of them. Odd sounds, lots of them, obviously animal in origin, but unlike anything Mog-ur had ever heard.

Suddenly, the brush in front of them exploded in movement. Strange looking light tan colored animals that slightly resembled humans in shape ran on all fours out of the cover of the brush and up into the trees. They climbed as easily as squirrels do, and had long, dextrous tails that acted as an additional hand or foot as they fled up into the branches of the trees.

A trio of dark skinned hunters broke through the brush at a fast trot, each carrying the same long, thin, flexible looking flint tipped spears. All the flint tips looked to be deep red. They spread out under the trees, looking up and moving around erratically trying to get a shot at one of the odd, black faced animals.

One hunter got a good view of the back of one of the furry animals hiding behind a fat limb high in the tree. He threw his spear with the speed and accuracy of a well trained hunter. The spear flew up, wobbling from tip to butt as it flew. It struck the furry back of the animal who never saw it coming.

The spear didn't penetrate deeply at all, in fact when the animal—a mon-kee, it came to the Mog-ur suddenly. He paused, filing the name away for future use. The mon-kee reached back with great dexterity and snatched the spear out of his back with a screaming yelp, tossing it down out of the tree.

Mog-ur watched the mon-kee as it started moving oddly, like his arms were getting weak or he was getting sleepy or something. The mon-kee slowly lost his grip and tried to grasp at the limb as he tumbled out of the tree and flopped to the ground. The dark skinned hunter rushed over to him, and quickly slit his throat with an odd looking knife.

The memory began to fade, and Mog-ur went through all he had just seen in his mind. It really didn't all make sense, but it was fascinating. The flames of the fire burned low, shimmering with the bright red light of the wide coal bed. I will speak to Rug about all this, perhaps he will help me make sense of it all, he thought to himself.

Mog-ur allowed himself to slip out of the deep meditation trance slowly, watching the glowing coal bed as a focal point as he did. He felt the coolness of the breeze on his bare chest, and the diminishing heat as the breeze blew it away from him.

An owl hooted from somewhere off to his right, his soft voice clear and distinct to the Mog-ur in his present state of mind. A moment later, he hooted again, a little closer this time.

**********

Darkness settled in gradually, long shadows growing wider and darker, spreading out steadily as the sun set slowly. A cool, constant wind blew in from over the river, bringing the sweet smells of the water wafting through the camp. Birdsongs of several varieties rang out from the woods, some near, some far.

The main camp fire was fully stoked, as were the four perimeter fires, the glowing spheres of flickering light leaving patterns of grey areas between them. The trio of seating logs were filled, and loose groups sat on the ground all around them in small bunches. The entire camp stayed in close, bellies full and minds at ease.

The stew and warmed over strips of meat made for a filling, tasty meal. Thickened with cracked grain, sliced tubers, and tangy shredded cabbage, what little was left of the stew simmered at the edge of the fire. Though everyone was now full, the succulent smells that emanated off it were a constant temptation to get just one last bowl.

Etra had come up with something new. She made up a platter of slow cooked, rather green bananas with a relish of ground up spices sprinkled over them. It was a big hit with the children, and with Talut of course. Tart, with tangy bits of sour sprinkles and chopped nuts, the soft fruit was devoured in short order. The platter emptied so fast that many of the adults got no taste of the creation at all, and Etra was embarrassed at the amount of praise she received from her effort.

Tulie sat on the far end of the log with Barzec beside her, listening intently. Tusie sat in her lap, leaning back against her chest while Tulie absently stroked her dark, wavy hair. Barzec had his arm around Tulie's waist, and his hand gripping Tusie's thigh, tickling her occasionally. The young girl had hold of his thumb, and pulled it away from her ticklish inner thigh every time he gave it a soft tickle. Her jaws were getting a little sore from giggling and holding the big grin that had been plastered across her face for such a long extended period of time. Tusie buried her face between Tulie's large, slightly sagging breasts, giggling again as Barzec gave her thigh another squeeze.

The discussion taking place had been going for a while, the men dissecting every little bit of information they could pull from the four hunters who had seen this new weapon. Brug was being quizzed the most, Rug and Draag questioning him endlessly and in great depth.

Brug stood up with his spear, and re-enacted how the weapon had been used. Though the Clan had done little of hunt re-enactments since they had been so heavily decimated long ago, it must have been instinctive for Brug. He had no problem pulling every detail from what he had seen into play as he mimicked the way the weapon was used.

Every hunter, and even most of the women watched the boy with rapt attention, no one had ever seen anything like it. Understanding the weapon he demonstrated was hard, especially for the men of the Clan who continued to riddle Brug with queries. Understanding abstracts, even those revolving around hunting was hard for them, though their interest was keen and their curiosity unwavering.

When Brug was finally able to sit back down, the inquiries shifted gradually to the other three hunters who had witnessed this display. Branag got the first barrage of questions, and Tornec had a hard time keeping up with all the hunting terms that were interlaced within the Clan men's relentless queries.

Brug sat back down on the ground in front of the Mog-ur at the far end of the center log. Little Ooga was in his lap, dozing peacefully with her head against his hairy chest. Finally able to simply listen and watch the conversation, Brug's mind wandered with all he had seen and heard. His quest for knowledge was a natural part of him when it came to anything at all concerning hunting or the weapons they used.

As Draag asked a rather complicated question of Druwez, Brug watched with veiled amusement while Tornec struggled to translate. He thought of Crag, wishing again that his teacher and mentor was still with him in the world of the living. That old man knew more about hunting than anyone he had ever known, even more than Rymar who had taught he and Mortan so well.

Brug felt an odd feeling inside as he suddenly relived a memory of Crag sitting on a rock. Crag was explaining to him and Mortan the reasons that the boys had been spotted by the small antelope they had been stalking. The feeling made his eyes feel funny, and his throat felt suddenly restricted.

When he took a deep breath trying to wash away this strange constriction, he realized it was something he had felt before. It was reminiscent of the day that the Clan had begun their journey, leaving the Lion Camp and all their friends, and Branag, behind. It was the same feeling he had felt when his mother had passed on to the spirit world, the same as when Crag had been killed by the tiger.

Branag was now the center of attention as he was questioned endlessly.

Talut watched with amusement and piggy backed deeper detailed questions that had been already asked. He enjoyed the discussion, and was determined to learn all he could.

Talut and Brenan sat close together sipping tea and holding their young sons. Bralut was being his normally curious self, reaching over to play finger games with Manut who was bright eyed and happy. Nezzie sat on the other side of Talut, watching the little boys with her matronly sparkling eyes.

Brug listened as Branag went into detail again, describing the quickness of the small spears. He made a decision, he would figure out this new weapon and learn to use it. He would do this to honor Crag, and he would get Ranec to teach him to carve a falcon somewhere on his first weapon. It was Crag's totem, and he wanted some kind of a more permanent connection to his teacher.

**********

The mid day sun was hot and bright in a clear blue sky. The still air was heavy with humidity, and everyone ran around with no more than short leggings and a few wore foot covers if they ventured away from the camp. The mid day meal was warmed over stew that had been added to extensively, along with another platter of spiced, cooked bananas. Etra made more this time, and everyone got some.

The raft was now complete, every overlap of every log was secure and had been double checked for strength. It took eight men to carry it to the rivers edge, it was heavy, stiff, and bulky, but light compared to the rafts they had built before from heavier wood. This new, softer wood did have its advantages. They left the raft at the shore, and Frebec tied a heavy vine to it to insure it would stay put.

**********

Talut, Rug, Brenan, and Ludeg wandered along the bank of the river to the southeast. They wanted to explore up around the bend of the river to get a better feel as to where the best place to cross would be. The threat of getting caught in the current and being pulled down river was more than a real concern. The river did wash over the cliff after all, and the very thought of this possibility gave them all serious pause. Talut and Rug carried axes, along with the spear scabbards slung across their backs. Brenan and Ludeg had throwing spears as well as spear throwers.

As they approached a huge tree that grew out into the waters of the river, they caught a glimpse of movement. A crocodile splashed into the water from the cover of the gnarly exposed roots of the wide bodied tree trunk. The water swirled in the wake of the croc as it swam further upstream on the surface, its long tail washing back and forth propelling him easily.

"What are we going to do to keep those guys off us while we cross?" Ludeg asked, watching the huge lizard swim away slowly.

Talut scrunched his furry eyebrows in thought, it wasn't the first time he had thought about this, but he had no answer as yet. He couldn't help but to remember how hard the croc's armor plating was, this was one tough guy, he thought.

Rug remembered his own battle with one of the stout, large lizards. Their strength wasn't the only thing that concerned him, he remembered just how fast they were in the water. Deceptively quick for and animal of their size and bulk, a crocodile could be on you quickly, with very little warning. Rug thought about this problem, but no immediate answers came to him either. It was an interesting dilemma, though, he thought as he set the heavy head of the axe on the ground beside him.

Brenan had no idea how to cross the river and stay away from the elusive crocodiles. They had already surprised him a few times by suddenly appearing close by in the water when he was at the river, with no real warning at all. Besides, Brenan knew how strong Rug was, and he had seen the effort Rug had expended to fend off that croc he killed. He suddenly wished he had an axe with him instead of just spears.

**********

Talut stopped behind a chest high palm plant that had wide splayed leaves and stared out over the wide river at the bend, the other three men sided up to him. They scrutinized the entire area, looking for clues as to what the river held in store for them in order to get across. The water was blue and gorgeous, still or nearly so at the banks, but rippled with swells out in the center.

The river turned, pushed by a wide flat rock formation and a thin, mostly rock island on the opposite shore. Where the river went more easterly, it narrowed along the slightly higher ground on each bank. On this side, the ground was a mixture of rock and dark soil with an abundance of trees growing right out into the water. Most of the trees were large, and many were tied together with the heavy vines with their fat leafy off chutes. Most of the grass was eaten down to almost ground level, and animal tracks, new and old were everywhere. The land rose up in a gentle slope to the east, and a few narrow trails were visible leading down to the water.

The other side of the river was a little more rocky, but it didn't seem to inhibit the tree growth much. Though fewer in number, the trees that grew on the other side were huge, even bigger than the larger ones on this side. Bright green canes grew in wide spread, thin clumps in several places right down at the waters edge. One small clump even grew on the far end of the rocky island. A single hulk of a long dead tree stuck up from the back side of the island. Replete with dead, leafless limbs, naked and bare, reaching out like stubby, thin arms. Where the elevation increased, there were ledges of solid, deep grey rock that stepped up the rise. Thick brush spotted the dark grey background with deep green accents. A small creek rushed quickly down the side of the rise, beginning somewhere in the wide rock ledge two thirds of the way up. Banana trees were plentiful in the lower lying areas, as well as near the clumps of canes.

The four men stood in silence for a long time taking in this panorama of beauty. In front of them a half dozen paces out into the water, a single pair of eyes broke the surface of the river without a sound. Only Rug noticed, and he instinctively got a better grip on the axe handle. A few moments later, another pair of eyes emerged to the right of the first. This time though, Rug wasn't the only one who spotted them.

Talut stared at the two crocs, wondering again how to cross the river without drawing their attention. As he was thinking on this problem anew, a strange thing happened a short distance behind them.

All four men turned at the sounds of splashing in the water, and they crouched down a little and watched as four strange looking animals jumped into the river and began to cross. Three of them looked to be full grown, the other a yearling at best.

None of the men noticed the two pair of eyes disappear at the sounds of the first splash.

They were probably all female, Talut thought as he watched the tan and light grey animals without antlers moving quickly through the water that deepened up to mid chest. Thin white stripes ran from their darker colored backs down to their slightly lighter colored bellies. The leader turned a little to her left, crossing the river now at a steeper angle, she was definitely not taking the shortest way across. The water slowly got deeper, but all four of them still appeared to still have solid contact with the rocky bottom. They moved quickly.

Two ripples began in the water upstream, veering right at the four. A spiny tail occasionally broke the surface, but the crocs stayed mostly underwater, though obviously staying shallow. A splash came from the island, and another ripple began.

The leader changed directions again, cutting back to a more direct way across the wide body of water. The water was just up past her shoulder now, and the young one was about to have to start swimming to keep up.

Talut grinned when the leader lurched forward and began to swim, the current carrying her downstream as she made her way forward. There was a thin circle of white around her butt, Talut couldn't help but to think of the circle as a target. In fact, the three adults all had this ring of white, how odd, he thought. When they all started swimming, they put a little more distance between the encroaching ripples from the east.

The lead doe didn't have to swim for very long, she suddenly caught the bottom and made good time as she ran through the chest deep water. The others followed as she again cut into a steeper angle than looked necessary, this time heading downstream. The four easily outdistanced themselves from the three encroaching crocodiles, eventually scrambling up the rocky banks and disappearing into the woods on the other side.

The three ripples followed them in, but they weren't even close. This time. Eyes emerged near the shore, then after a little bit, slid back out of sight.

"We have to scout that out." Ludeg said softly, not wanting to spoil the serenity of the moment.

"Scout out what?" Brenan asked watching for any further signs of the deer, or the crocs.

"The ledge they used to cross, they didn't have to swim very far at all. If they can use it so can we." Ludeg said, looking back over his shoulder at Brenan before going on.

"I have used these before, back in my 'runner' days. Though not common, most rivers will have a few places like this that are easy to cross—if you know where they are. We need to map it out and put up markers that we can follow."

Talut and Brenan both thought about what all Ludeg was saying, he was making a lot of sense. Neither man had ever done anything quite like this before, and didn't really know how to get started. They did have faith though, Ludeg knew.

Rug spotted a ripple near the island, and watched the croc climb up onto a flat, deep grey rock that was an ideal place for sunning and watching the river for prey. Once on the rock, he became almost invisible, and completely motionless.

Talut grinned, Ludeg was right, this needs to be explored. He took a few bearings, using landmarks to try to map out the crossing. When he looked for something to mark where the odd deer splashed into the river, he wasn't all that surprised to see a faint trail between two green bushes and a short palm.

"I'm sure that the underwater ledge will help us get across, but what about the crocs?" Brenan asked.

Ludeg wrinkled his brow. "Good question."

Rug saw another croc at the island, he climbed up onto the same rock as the other one, but kept a respectful distance. In a moment, he also became hard to pick out, blending into the grey rock impressively.


	31. Chapter 23 Part 2

**Chapter Twenty Three**

_The Waterfall_

**Part Two**

Wide patches of shade gave the river two distinctly different shades of blue. So many of the large trees along the shoreline on both sides grew right out into the water that it created a partial, shaded canopy over the rivers shores. It cooled the light breezes even more than the water alone did, refreshingly cool and brisk.

The water was almost cold, his body having already been warmed by the early morning sun, and it created only a slight current pulling against his muscular thighs. Brenan's eyes were everywhere, watching the surface of the water all around. He stood nearly a third of the way out into the main body of the river, second in a loose line of four men. Brenan watched all around him, looking for a swell, or a telltale ripple, or eyes. Those ominous, merciless eyes.

Rug stopped a few steps ahead of Brenan, scrutinizing an odd ripple that ran contrary to the general direction of the rest of the water. He gripped the long handled axe, his short, stocky frame stayed completely still until the ripple dissipated and finally disappeared into the other gentle waves. He looked back over to his right side briefly, gauging the distance back over to Ludeg and Branag who walked the edge of the underwater ledge.

Across from Ludeg and Branag, Talut led the three men guarding the other side of the scouts. They too all carried axes, with Troog and Draag following behind Talut, and Danug bringing up the rear. The men were spaced out a few body lengths apart, eyes to the south and west.

Danug jumped back as something brushed against him, traveling between his legs. He saw a light green shadow of a nice sized fish as he swam on upstream. Danug let his breath out slowly, his heart pounding so loud he could hear it. With great effort, he forced himself to begin wading back into line behind Draag. His breathing was no where near back to normal yet, but he worked on it as he walked.

Behind Brenan, Thorec and Salen followed along dutifully with the same approximate spacing between them. Shadowing Branag and Ludeg as they ventured further out into the river.

The water stayed no deeper than midway up his chest on Rug, the shortest man of them all, and was clear enough to see the bottom pretty easily if the surface was smooth. On the opposite side, the water was almost up to Talut's elbow. Between the two lines of men, Ludeg and Branag waded in the shallows of the underwater ledge. To them, the water was only up to mid thigh deep.

Ludeg pulled a thick rock out of the backpack Branag wore over his shoulders. Attached to the rock was a thin length of vine and a short stick that had been dyed with some bright orange ochre. Ludeg unwound the length of vine, and tossed it over to his left a little behind Rug. The rock hit the water with a small splash, and a moment later the orange stick floated on the surface near where Ludeg stood.

The two men stayed still, watching to see if the floating stick stayed stationary. It did, lining up with the other three already floating in the river. On top of the ledge, the water was only up to the middle of their thighs. Ludeg turned back facing the other side and began working his way along the edge of the shallow ledge again. The guards on both sides of him moved along with him, flanking the two of them with a protective eye. The water got steadily deeper for the men on the flanks, especially those out front. Rug held his axe high, the water up to his armpits now.

Brug sat on a low lying limb of a tree that grew in the shallows with an extraordinarily thick trunk. Mortan sat on another limb that jutted out of the other side of the tree, both boys had their eyes pealed for any movement in the water. With their vantage point, they had a great, but partially obstructed view of the river. Several leaf covered branches blocked parts of the river, but all in all it was a good spot to watch over the entire area.

Druwez, Mog-ur, and a few other men and women walked the banks. Nervous, and doing their best to help play spotters, they shifted their positions to improve their vantage points as the men made their way out farther into the blue water.

Wymez and Rymar found a good clear spot and sat comfortably in the shade watching to the south of Talut and his crew. They had combined their efforts and made four new axes. Starting last night and finishing up this morning, they had used the last of the new found flint that was large enough to make a decent sized axe head. So far, neither man was very happy with the overall quality of the local stone, it was only adequate at best.

Talut had to stop, he had reached the drop off at the edge of the ledge. One more step and the mid chest deep water would go over the top of his head easily. The now powerful current pulled at his wide belly and even harder against his thighs, just three steps back the current had been mild. The channel must turn here underwater, he thought as he stepped back tentatively, trying to keep his balance solid.

Ludeg tossed another vine wrapped stone into the water, this time the floating stick walked back a little closer than it should have. The rock bounced along on the rock riverbed, pulled by the increasingly strong current. It finally stopped, floating out a little farther in front of Ludeg than the last one had, the currents were changing directions.

Five more tentative steps forward and Ludeg reached the end of the shallow ledge. He used his feet to explore all around where the drop off occurred, hoping he would find another section of the rock extending out farther into the channel. No luck, even with Branag's strong hand helping him lean out farther into the center channel, Ludeg knew that this was the end of the line.

"Lud-dag!" Rug's gruff voice rang out over the water.

Ludeg and Branag both looked to Rug who pointed at a slight ripple encroaching from the general direction of the island with his axe. It wasn't hard to see, and both men began backing up, following the floating markers.

"We got another one!" Talut's big voice boomed out, he pointed across the river to a dark patch in the water in a wide dark spot of shade.

Almost as if choreographed in advance, the men slowly backed up and closed in to form a tight circle. Axes high, they scoured the surface looking for any more signs of advancing crocodiles.

"Bran-nuh!" Brug's voice carried easily across the water. Branag looked to where the boy in the tree was pointing, and spotted the third ripple coming at them from the east.

Everyone on shore crowded around the waters edge, sounding off and pointing out into the water. Their fear level rose substantially.

"Men, be careful." Talut began. "Back each other up quickly."

The circle of men slowly backed away from the center of the river. Every man faced out, Ludeg and Branag had spears, but the rest of them carried axes. Every weapon was brandished high out of the water, and raised into striking position.

The closest rippling trail faded away to the east side of the tight circle of men. Eyes opened wider, and Ludeg and Branag both raised their spears up and into a stabbing position.

The ripple to the southwest dissipated a half dozen paces directly out in front of Troog and Draag. Draag took one more step back and felt around on the bottom, planting his feet securely.

Rug watched the long vee of rippling water coming right at him from the island. It was getting closer. And closer. He backed up another two steps, the water level dropping as he did, now down to the center of his chest. He gripped the axe with both hands, holding it over his head, his arm muscles flexed and bulging.

Brenan had his axe held high over his right shoulder, his eyes searching the water close in front of him. His legs quivered with the tension he felt, but his grip on the axe was firm and secure. As quickly as he could see and react, he swung the axe down into the water in front and to the left of him. The shadow moved quickly and the axe struck a glancing blow, but it felt like a pretty solid hit.

As Brenan pulled the axe back up and out of the water, he grimaced as the spiny tail of the croc slapped hard against his thigh. The force of the blow twisted his body roughly and made him stagger to keep his balance, and he stumbled forward a step and a half before he was able to straighten up with his legs back under him. His leg burned like it was on fire, and it hurt to something fierce to hold him up, but it still worked. The cool water seemed to accentuate the throbbing of the damaged muscles, and Brenan felt a heat wave of sweat bead up and begin to pour off him. His arms quivered gripping the axe, it felt a lot heavier now than it had before.

Branag stabbed down with the spear, he made solid contact and when felt the heavy flint point bite, he shoved the spear with all his might. Lunging hard in a downward motion, he pushed the spear out and away from his body while he felt his feet slipping on the slick rock bottom.

Ludeg stabbed down with his spear, but while the point hit solidly, it glanced off and he fell forward with the force of his motion. Ludeg's left shoulder hit the shaft of Branag's spear, and his body glanced off the shaft and he got a mouthful of water when his head and shoulders went under briefly. He scrambled to get his feet back under him, and squared up next to Branag as he struggled with the strong movements of the croc as it fought against him underwater.

Draag saw the dark shadow coming up at Troog in the water between them. He whipped the heavy axe down with both hands and caught the crocodile's head with a sharp, off center blow that made him roll over in the water. Troog saw the lighter colored under belly and struck a blow with his own axe. The sharp blade split the croc wide open from just under its right front leg in a long diagonal across his belly.

The water boiled at the end of Branag's spear as the crocodile spun under water and freed himself from the painful intrusion. A wide swell appeared on the surface of the water as he swam back toward the center of the river.

Talut swung his axe down hard into the water, missing the croc completely as he swam away erratically, half his body wasn't responding but his powerful tail giving him a strong push. He pulled the axe back out of the water, holding it high and ready to swing again.

The circle of men tightened up again. The water was clear all around them, but no one considered it safe. All the weapons were in position and ready for another assault. Brenan wavered, his body swayed slightly, listing to his right side. Ludeg grabbed Brenan around the back, hooking his hand in his armpit, pulling him closer and helped to hold him up straight.

Toward the middle of the deep channel, the croc with the split belly surfaced, his long tail swishing from side to side. Though usually smooth and graceful in the water, the surface churned around him as he swam with his wounded body not reacting as it should. His tail sent out small cascading sheets of water to the sides as he moved away from them slowly.

With a splash, the surface exploded when another croc lurched up and attacked the wounded animal. With a sickening crunch, his huge jaws closed on the neck of the hurt croc, and he pulled him down under the surface with a powerful swish of his tail. The surface water boiled, then the tail of the attacking croc disappeared.

Rug spotted the other wounded crocodile trying to climb back up onto the flat rock at the near end of the island. A trail of dark blood smeared the rock as the croc struggled to climb up. He slipped back down, and the water at his tail splashed wildly as he tried again. The croc grasped the edge of the rock with his small front legs, hanging in place for a moment. His long body stiffened as he pulled again and gained a bit, his body hanging on the rock a little higher now. With another lunge, he climbed a little higher, the streak of blood on the rock was wider now.

Just as the croc gave another strong push, the water at his tail erupted and another crocodile bit down strongly on his tail. The struggle was brief, water cascading all around them, then they both went under. The water at the rock stilled.

The men made their way back to the shore, Brenan was limping badly even with Ludeg's help. When the water level was down to the middle of their thighs it became obvious why Brenan walked so gingerly. His left thigh was a wide smear of blood a little above his knee, with jagged fresh meat mangled and raw. Danug sided up to him to his left, and Talut grabbed him from the right, relieving Ludeg. Together the two big, strong men helped him through the shallows and up to dry land.

Tressie split the crowd and was on Brenan before they got him all the way up to a flat rock and sat him down. She pressed a soft square of de-haired rabbit skin against the nasty looking wound. Brenan moaned loudly at the pain the pressure caused, and clenched his fists as he dropped the axe.

Vincavec was suddenly there, wrapping a wide strap of thick leather around the patch of rabbit skin. When he pulled it tight, Brenan slumped over, the sudden, intense stab of pain causing him to pass out.

"Talut, we have to get him back to camp." Tressie said, an edge of urgency in her voice. "Now."

Tressie hopped up to her feet, and took off running back to camp without looking back. Vincavec tied off the strap, the small patch was already dark with blood and dripped down his leg in thin rivulets.

Talut dropped his axe and leaned over, hooking his hands under Brenan's shoulder blades and his lower back. Seemingly without effort, the extremely strong man stood straight up, gently cradling Brenan's limp body in his huge arms. When he turned back toward the camp, the crowd parted silently to let him pass. Vincavec walked beside him, holding two fingers against the side of Brenan's neck.

The rest of the men and women followed quietly behind, Brug taking the back position, forming a single rear guard.

**********

Tressie had a place all set up by the time Talut carried a moaning Brenan into camp. Latie had met them a little way outside the camp, and held Brenan's hand as they walked in with Bralut in her other arm. The worried look on her face said it all.

Brenan was conscious, but more than a little out of it, the pain wracking him with small spasms from time to time. The patch on his leg was completely soaked through with blood, and his leg was covered and streaked with dark red from the thigh down.

Etra had three bowls set out, wisps of steam rising off the three different colored liquids. A stack of small, soft skins lay at her knees on the edge of the wide aurochs hide she sat on. Her medicine bag lay on the other side of her, right next to Tressie's.

Matera walked up to the hide just as Talut and Danug gently lay Brenan down on the light brown skin. His eye were glassy looking, pupils dilated and wandering from side to side as she knelt down to examine him.

"He has lost a lot of blood, we need to get the bleeding under control before we can do anything else." Vincavec said as he knelt beside them.

Etra soaked a small skin in the bowl of light yellow, milky looking solution. She wrung out the excess fluid and watched as Vincavec untied the strap around Brenan's thigh. She let out a small gasp when he pulled the wide, dripping patch off the leg.

Latie let a whimper escape her lips, then stepped back. She was unsteady on her feet and Talut and Danug both grabbed her and led her over to the nearest seating log. Nezzie saw them, and hurried over to sit next to the first daughter of her hearth. She wrapped her matronly arms around Latie's shoulders, and Latie leaned into her mother, taking comfort from the closeness.

Mog-ur stood at the edge of the hide, watching. Brug sided up next to him with Branag on the other side of him. Mog-ur grimaced when he saw the extent of the wound, he had seen bad wounds before and knew the seriousness of the injury at once.

The flesh was mangled. Blood poured out in pulses from several places between the torn muscle tissue. The skin was ripped in three or four wide strips, deep enough that pieces of bright pink muscle tissue was extended past the surface of the leg and intermixed with the loose patches of torn skin. The entire wound pulsed with fresh, deep red blood.

Brug's wide shoulders sagged as he saw the gore that was once Brenan's thigh. Mog-ur saw this, and put a hand reassuringly on the boys shoulder, he then signed with his free hand.

'Remember the skill of our healers.' Brug looked up into Mog-ur's deep brown eyes, his face set into a firm scowl as Mog-ur continued to sign.

'These talented medicine men and women have healed worse injuries than this, have faith in their abilities and skills.'

Mog-ur paused and placed his fingertips on the top of the immense, colored scar on his chest.

'Remember what they did for me, and now there are more healers here to deal with this. They will help him, just give them a little time.'

Brug nodded solemnly, he did remember the terrible wound that the Mog-ur had incurred. By all rights, Mog-ur should have died. The old holy man had to be right, they healed him.

Etra dabbed the wound with the damp skin, yellow liquid dripping from the soft rag as she did. Everywhere she touched the mangled flesh with the solution, the bleeding appeared to slow, if ever so slightly.

Matera dipped a rag in another steaming bowl, this one was full of a light tan colored brew. As she wrung out the rag, she watched Vincavec deftly working over the wound with his fingers. He tried to rearrange the torn muscles and thick skin back to where they were supposed to be, poking and prodding carefully.

Mog-ur raised both hands up to the sky, and held this pose stiffly. A soft thudding sound began from behind him, rhythmic and steady. The men of the Clan all sat on the ground, hitting the ground with clenched fists in unison. Wymez and Rymar joined them, as did many others over the next few moments. Soon, most of the camp was keeping time.

Eloquently, and with over exaggerated motions, Mog-ur began to call upon the spirits. He called down the ancient spirits of old, and beseeched Ursus and the mighty spirit of Mut as well. It was a powerful sight, the holy man of the Clan was never more in his own element, he was born for this.

Matera carefully pulled the soft rag across the wounds that Vincavec had pulled and prodded back into place. The solution she used obviously stung, and Brenan's head rolled from side to side.

Tressie set aside the rag of yellow solution that she and Etra had been working with and scooted back to take Brenan's head gently in her hands. She dropped her face close to his and began talking to him softly, assuring him that it would all be all right. She told him he was in no real danger, to he had to be strong and brave and it would all be better soon. Very soon. This seemed to help, though Brenan was probably in shock from the loss of blood, Tressie's reassuring tone and words helped.

Vincavec paused at a particularly grotesque tear. The muscle tissue was shredded and torn beyond recognition as to how it needed to go back together. He gently tried to rearrange it but there was just too much of it to go back where it belonged. He sat back to contemplate his next move.

The soft, low pitched drumming continued. Mog-ur finished with a flourish of eloquent motion. He bowed his head and slowly sat down.

Etra set her rag down, and reached over to the wound that Vincavec was stuck on. She pulled up the worst of the torn flesh, then gently fingered the striations of the mangled tissue, pressing it back together as best she could. The results looked promising, but a few tendrils of torn meat still hung out between her fingers.

Vincavec watched, and pulled a small flint blade out of Matera's medicine bag beside him on the ground. He nodded at Etra as she held the flesh together, and gently trimmed off the flaps and striations of torn flesh that hung out from between her fingers. Vincavec was slow and deliberate, he didn't want to remove any more tissue than was absolutely necessary.

The open wound below where they worked pulsed blood again, and Matera reached over and dabbed at it with the light brown solution. The bleeding slowed a bit, and Matera swapped the rag for Etra's rag and wiped it down with the yellow solution. Brenan winced through his stupor, and Tressie dropped her head back close to his, speaking softly once more.

Etra gently fitted the torn flesh back into the wound, prodding and pressing it until it looked to fit the jagged slash pretty well. Vincavec took over for her, working the ripped skin back over the pink muscle. Etra moved on to the next one, this one was deeper and bled steadily from a single point at the center, deepest part of the wound.

Matera alternately swabbed this wound, first with the tan solution, then with the yellow, trying to no real avail to stem the bleeding. She managed to slow it somewhat, but the large vein was badly torn.

"Etra." Tressie said softly, and lifted her hand to sign. 'Need burn stick.'

Etra thought for a moment, then a wave of understanding hit her. Her hands shook a little as she remembered the technique that Tressie and Tulie used on the Mog-ur. Chill bumps rolled over her body, but she knew Tressie was right. Etra took a deep breath and nodded at Tressie as she let go of the mangled flesh and stood up.

"We need to singe the open bleeder," Tressie began as both Matera and Vincavec looked over at her. "It's the only way."

Vincavec and Matera both blanched, the possibilities of infection from such a radical treatment were immense. Both scoured their memories, trying to figure out another way to stop the bleeding, to no real avail.

Matera placed the rag soaked in the light tan liquid directly over the badly bleeding tear, and held pressure on it while Vincavec tended the other, less serious wounds. One of the rips Vincavec worked on was bleeding steadily also, though not as bad as the worst one that Matera held pressure on. He tried alternating the two solutions on the deepest part of the wound, but the results were much less than he had hoped for.

Brenan winced as the stinging solutions continued to pain him. And Tressie reached down to try and hold his body still while they worked on him.

Etra returned with Wymez and Tulie at her sides. She had a short piece of firewood as big around as her arm in her hand, and propped it up on a rock with the burning end up next to the skin and sat down next to Tressie. She took over for Tressie, and Tressie got up and watched as Wymez whittled one end of the thin, smooth stick in his hands into a long point.

Wymez held out the end of the stick for Tressie to look at, she examined it closely and nodded. Wymez turned and put the sharp end of the stick into the flames of the burning stick, at the bottom of the flames where the fire was mostly blue in color.

Tulie sat down next to Brenan and watched the rest of them work. She studied the ragged wounds, wondering how the spiny tail of the crocodile could have caused so much damage so quickly.

Vincavec was having no luck with the bleeding, he continued to swab it but it continued to seep at an alarming rate. He soaked the rag into the yellow solution and pressed it onto the wound and held pressure on it.

Wymez pulled the stick out of the fire, the end of it held a small flame. He blew it out and the red embers on the point glowed red as he blew on it. The red ember grew to as long as Wymez' fingertip as he blew on it. He pulled his knife up and gently scraped it over the tip, causing small splinters of glowing ash to fall off. Wymez held it out to Tressie.

Tressie took the stick, and nodded at Etra who got a firm grip on Brenan's shoulders and braced herself. Matera pulled her hand away from the gash, and quickly swabbed the wound with the yellow liquid. As soon as she pulled the rag away, Tressie leaned forward and placed her hand just below the wide cut. She used her off hand as a prop to keep the stick steady as she slowly inserted it into the heart of the bleeding.

As the glowing point touched the open flesh, Brenan jerked once and passed out. Etra quickly scooted back to help Tressie.

Tressie prodded the wound again, a thin sliver of bad smelling smoke rising up and dissipating quickly in the soft breeze. When she finished, she handed the stick back to Wymez and he scraped it clean before putting it back into the fire.

Tressie and Etra cleaned the wound again, allowing a little of the yellow fluid to puddle at the bottom of the gash. The singed flesh was a deep brown and grey streaked mess of bloody tissue, but the amount of the bleeding had been cut in half.

It took another two procedures to singe and finally stop the bleeding completely, and the two women went on to the wound that Vincavec held pressure on. Matera finished cleansing and treating the singed wound, wiping it over with the thick, amber colored mixture from the last medicine bowl. She and Vincavec then sprinkled a light grey colored powder over the sticky smear of amber, and tamped it down gently with their fingertips. After repeating this a second time, the wound was completely covered with the light colored powder.

Brenan came to just as Tressie and Etra finished with the burning stick on the third and last wound. He thrashed a bit until Tulie stabilized him by laying her hefty body over his chest and holding him still. After a brief struggle, Brenan came to his senses, woke up a little more, and settled down.

Tulie spoke softly to him, telling him that the worst was over and she would get him something for the pain as soon as the healers were finished. Brenan smiled up at her through a firmly clenched jaw, drops of sweat ran down his face in rivulets.

By the time Vincavec and Matera had all the wounds covered with the amber liquid and the light colored powder, Etra had the materials ready to wrap up the thigh with. Vincavec held the leg up while Etra and Tressie finished the wide, thick bandage.

Matera made up a strong, bitter tasting pain killing tea, and Latie brought over a sweet tasting tea flavored with linden flower to chase away the bitter taste with. Brenan almost gagged on the first cup, but smiled at the second. Latie sat down with him, holding his hand tenderly.

"You will have to stay off this leg for several days." Tressie began. "We will examine it every day to monitor the healing process. Brenan, you have been injured pretty badly, but you shouldn't have any permanent damage if you will take care of yourself while you heal and not push it too hard."

Latie beamed at her words, and squeezed Brenan's hand a little harder.

"Thank you Tressie, and the rest of you all too." Brenan said, his voice weak and soft. He looked up at all the healers around him packing up their stuff. "It feels funny having you work on me, I thought I was supposed to be the healer."

A round of chuckles broke out, and with it several camp members made their way over to him. The dull sounds of the drumming slowly faded away.

**********

Brug and Rug walked through the woods together quietly, Druwez and Mortan followed. The trees were large and shaded the ground almost entirely with their widely spread bulk of leaf covered branches. Rug stopped to examine a low lying limb, studying the shape of the leaves. He let it go and shook his head, then walked on to the next tree.

They wandered around in the woods for a while before Rug found what he was looking for. A tree with a trunk as thick as his thigh, with wide, long, leaf covered branches.

'This is the tree, the one that is almost too hard to chop.' He signed as he patted the trunk. The leaves were the same as he remembered, he and Ludeg had broken two axe heads on a similar tree when they had been cutting materials for the raft. It was a tree like this that had convinced them to be pickier about the trees they decided to harvest.

'Thank you,' Brug signed in return, then memorized the pattern of the leaf. 'I will not forget this leaf.'

Rug nodded his head, and looked up to begin evaluating the branches trying to decide which one the boys would try to cut.

Brug had come to him after the ordeal with Brenan had finally played out and Brenan was now sleeping peacefully. He asked Rug numerous questions about the different qualities that each different species of wood possessed. Rug was impressed with the questions the boy asked, each answer leading to another, more detailed question.

The discussion reminded Rug of all the debriefings he and the other hunters of the Clan had put Brug, and later Mortan through when they were younger. Rug could tell by the quality of the questions that the young hunter was getting smarter and growing up. There was no doubt about how serious he was about hunting and everything involved around these specific skills. It was nice, though to see his interest evolving and growing.

Brug shinnied up the tree trunk, and wrapped his arm around the lowest outlying branch. He pulled himself up onto the branch easily, and turned to offer a helping hand to Mortan who followed him up. They looked up and seemed to find what they were looking for, then after a short discussion, started to climb higher.

The two of them worked their way up a little at a time, then found a good place to stand on a thick horizontal branch. With one boy now on each side of the tree, they found good hand grips and each of them pulled a small axe from their belts. Brug gave the branch a few tentative chops, knocking the heavy bark off the dark colored, very dense wood below. After a couple of dozen soft, meticulously placed chops, he leaned back out of the way and Mortan started in where he had left off.

Rug and Druwez watched from the ground below. It was interesting how the pair worked so easily together, they were fun to watch.

Mortan was chopping when the limb sagged suddenly with a loud pop, and Brug reached up to hold the limb up a little way out from the trunk. He held it steady while Mortan chopped it the rest of the way through. Brug let it drop, and they climbed back down.

Druwez helped them to strip the branch of the small twigs and branches that grew off the limb, and between the three of them they had it stripped bare in no time. Brug hefted the heavy shaft of wood over his shoulder for the long walk back to camp.

**********

It was quiet in the smaller of the two traveling tents. Latie sat next to Brenan as he slept, content to hold his hand. She nursed Bralut who was growing sleepy, his usually aggressive suckling soft for a change. Brenan snored softly laying mostly on top of the stretched out sleeping furs with one small flap covering a portion of his hairy, bare chest.

On the other side of Brenan, Tressie lay curled up and napping where Latie would have normally slept. Tressie insisted on being near in case Brenan woke up and wanted or needed anything, and Latie was glad to have her talented friend so close. Danug had helped Tressie to get settled in, but had gone back outside to the main fire, the discussions were rather intriguing tonight.

It had been a difficult time for Latie, only once before had Brenan had anything bad happen to him to cause any real pain or injury since the two of them gotten together. It gave her a stronger insight to her own feelings, seeing him actually hurt. She realized all over again just how much he meant to her, how deep her love for her mate really was.

Bralut slid off her nipple and his head drooped slowly down her chest. Latie pried his hand of the side of her breast and gently took hold of him and laid him out beside Brenan. She checked the babe's wrap and smiled to herself finding it still dry. Bralut made a contorted face and passed gas loudly as he rolled over with his head facing away from Brenan. Latie grinned and shifted her position a little, shuffling a soft red deer hide into a pillow at one end and lay down. She was so tired mentally that she felt she couldn't hold her eyes open much longer. She was right.

**********

That evening there were two major groups that congregated around the main camp fire following a nice hot meal of stew, cattail shoots, and cooked, spiced bananas.

The largest group centered around Talut, Vincavec, Tulie, and the Mog-ur. The other group centered around Brug, Rug, Branag, Wymez, and Rymar. The larger group consisted of most everyone except the most serious and enthusiastic of the hunters which naturally included all the men of the Clan. Two very different and diverse discussions were ongoing.

**********

"...with the dangers of the ever present crocodiles I'm not really sure of the best way to get across." Talut said, his eyebrows scrunched deeply in thought. Little Manut had a double hand full of bright red chest hair and chewed contentedly on the back of his own hand. Manut's eyes were beginning to droop.

"They seem to always be there in the river, and as we have seen, they can approach quickly and they are really difficult to see until they are right up on you. I think it would be too much a risk to try and push ourselves across from in the water like we've done before. We would be way too exposed, for much too long."

"We need to find a way to get rid of the crocodiles, a wide scale hunt of some kind maybe." Tulie chimed in, her inexperience in dealing with these formidable creatures showing.

Talut and a few others chuckled lightly. Tulie's face turned a little red, and she looked down to her tea cup to cover her embarrassment, it wasn't often that she spoke up without thinking as she just had.

"Tulie, these guys are tough. Really tough. They are hard to see, fast swimmers, and can hold their breath for a really long time." Frebec said, having been on the trip to get water where Rug had killed the first crocodile. He had seen the struggle that Rug had gone through, seen the impressive strength of the croc. "What we really need is to find a better way to cross the river."

The gather grew quiet for a long moment.

"Frebec's right." Tulie said looking back up, her face no longer red and her expression looking more like the leader that she was again. "How do we propel the raft past the current?"

"Push poles will get us to the current easy enough, but how do we find out how deep the channel is?" Talut asked, glad to see his sibling taking no real offense in being called on her small gaff.

"Push poles are hard to use over rock as solid as this river bottom is." Frebec added to the conversation with a wrinkled brow of his own. "They tend to bounce across the bottom and skip around and they lose their grip too easy."

"Frebec is right again." Vincavec said grinning.

Tornec stayed busy with his running translations, and Mog-ur watched with interest as to how these people of the Others so openly discussed their ideas. So different from how the Clan did things, here the women's opinions were not only taken seriously, but their ideas were as encouraged just as the men's were. Though directly contrary to Clan tradition, Mog-ur could see the benefits of the added ideas that the women posed for discussion. Mog-ur was glad to be in the company of these remarkable people, and glad that ideas from any member of his Clan were taken just as seriously as anyone else.

"If we can't pole across, how about paddling across like you do in a bowl boat?" Ranec asked, with Ralev in his lap and Tricie sitting next to him. Ralev had a small piece of the soft wood that they had used to build the raft out of in his hands, he carved on it with a small flint knife that fit his hand perfectly. The stick was starting to resemble a fish of some kind.

It got quiet again, but not for long. Several people began speaking all at once, and the once quiet discussion suddenly grew in volume.

Talut grinned and looked over to Tulie who grinned back. Manut reached up and grabbed a hand full of Talut's beard when he turned his head. He latched on strongly as the little boy stood up on shaking legs and as soon as he straightened them and locked his knees, he yawned. Talut looked down his nose at the strong little boy, and mimicked a yawn himself. He got a bright, but sleepy eyed smile from Manut as the boy pulled his hands apart, tugging mightily on Talut's beard.

The discussion continued on in its fragmented, disorganized form.

**********

'...drive a wedge here and here.' Rug signed, holding a sharpened piece of flint against the hard piece of wood. 'Drive it with axe, little at a time. Work way down limb, all the way. Limb breaks in half.'

Mortan spoke Rug's words, his translation abilities rivaled Tornec's, even bettering him in some areas.

Troog and Draag both made faces as they did their best to follow the method Rug proposed. Troog got a sudden inkling of how it should work, but it went a little over Draag's head for the moment.

Brug watched Rug slowly take the sharpened end of the flake and place it at the other end of the branch, and suddenly understood. His eyes sparkled with the wave of understanding.

"Good, but Rug, if you first split it here it might work better." Wymez said as he leaned forward to move the flint piece in Rug's hand farther to the outside. Mortan kept up easily, and Rug and the other men of the Clan watched Mortan and Wymez both.

"This way, once the branch comes apart, you can do it again here." Wymez said moving the flint again.

It got quiet as they all considered what Wymez had said.

Rug nodded, then signed again. 'Now piece is much closer to right size.' He wrinkled his brow as he continued. 'Less shaping after split, good "Wym-maz".

Rymar chuckled as Mortan caught up with his translation. He thought of the stout vines that Frebec had been working with and wondered if the smaller ones might work with this new weapon. From his own experience using them to tie logs together on the raft, they should be stout enough. I must ask Frebec about this, he thought as he paid attention again to the conversations.

Branag grinned, it was a good idea. One he should have thought of himself, he mused. This will be a lot of trial and error, his thoughts continued, but it will be fun. Few things in life pleased him more than working with Brug on a weapons project, the boy was so very dedicated.

The discussion of what to do next went on, and on.

**********

Tressie stirred the ground powders into the small bowl of hot water. The water took on an amber color almost immediately, and she added more ingredients from a second pouch from her medicine bag. Tressie tasted a drop of the liquid from the dripping end of the knuckle bone. She paused to think for a moment, then rummaged through the bag again.

Danug walked over to her at the fire, it was late, well into the second watch of guard duty. He and Salen had the south side of the camp, while Thorec and Ranec were busy watching the north side perimeter. Danug shuffled his feet in the leaves, hoping to not startle his mate as he approached.

Tressie heard him, and gave him one of her brightest smiles before tying up the pouch in her hand and dropping it back into the open bag. She used the thin knuckle bone to stir the bowl of steaming liquid as she watched her mate drop down and sit beside her. Danug leaned over and gave her a quick kiss.

"How is Brenan doing?" Danug's normally boisterous voice was soft and subdued in the still of the night.

"Good really, he woke up a little bit ago and is in pain but that is normal with an injury as severe as his." She smiled as she went on. "This will help him sleep and dull the pain, he will be all right."

"Good." Danug felt genuine relief, Brenan had become a good friend since he had returned from his journey. Brenan had been the healer that had worked the healing magic on his left arm when the Eastern Savage had hit him with a spear. Though it left a somewhat ugly scar, Danug had no real limitations in using the arm now, it was a fine tribute to Brenan's skills as a healer.

Tressie stood up, balancing the medicine bowl and a cup in one hand. She gazed up into Danug's bright green eyes.

"I will be done with Brenan in a little bit if you would like some company." She whispered in a hoarse, seductive voice.

Danug blushed and felt an instant tightness in his loins. It seemed that she was able to do that to him at will, and she seemed to be willing it a lot more often of late. Not that Danug minded, of course, he was sure that Salen wouldn't mind turning in early.

**********

Wymez enlisted the help of Branag, Ranec and Draag to figure out a good way of making a set of paddles from existing materials scrounged up from the woods behind the camp. It was slow going, usually the Mamutoi used shed palmate antlers fixed to a short pole, but no one had seen a moose in a while.

Several methods were tried, the soft wood used on the raft was not as thick as they really needed to make a decent paddle, even when thicker logs were split.

Ranec and Draag played with several of the local plants, and Draag even tried weaving a few of the stiff palm leaves into an oblong shape. This showed promise, and he and Ranec started brainstorming on how to attach the stiff wide flap onto a stick.

Wymez and Branag tried to find a secure way of tying two of the flat, split pieces from the thickest part of the log together and to attach them to a pole. It was hard to keep them from coming apart, and a few different methods were tried to limited success. Wymez started carving on the uneven wood to try to get it to fit together better while Branag stripped the bark off potential poles.

Talut got involved along with Danug, and the two of them started splitting some of the larger leftover pieces of the logs from construction of the raft. Danug was a little more adept in holding back his incredible strength than Talut was, and Talut busted another axe head from using too much force. Branag stopped what he was doing to touch it up and put a new edge on the heavy flint wedge.

Frebec and Crisavec ripped some soft leather into thin strips and started in helping Ranec and Draag as they tried to put their woven paddles together. They had woven three layers of the matting together, and it made for a lightweight, rather stiff paddle end. Together, Frebec and Crisavec wrapped the flat end to the short pole, overlapping it in several directions with the wet leather strips tightly. When they got it all tied up, Crisavec carried it over to the central fire to dry out the strapping.

The work went on.

**********

Tressie changed Brenan's wrap, cleaning the wounds carefully with a yellow antiseptic liquid soaked into a soft rabbit skin rag. Most of the flesh was a soft pink color, but there were a few areas of bright red that gave her pause, some had small puss pockets already developing. Infection was almost inevitable with this type of injury, but she wanted to keep it beaten back as much as she could.

Brenan was sore, it seemed his whole leg throbbed, not just his injured thigh. Deep purple and greenish blue bruises covered the entire front side of the muscular thigh, and it was swollen up quite a bit. He tried to relax while Tressie worked on him, but it was hard to not watch what all she was doing, it was just the healer in him that was always interested and oh so curious.

Vincavec and Matera came over to check the progress of the leg, and sat down to assist Tressie as she lanced a few of the small pockets of infection with a wafer thin piece of flint. Tressie was very accomplished, and both the older healers were suitably impressed with her acumen. Matera made up a slightly different concoction to put on the brighter red spots, it smelled strongly of comfrey and was a deep brownish color. It must have stung, judging from Brenan's reactions when she swabbed it on the tender areas.

This time when they wrapped the thigh, they soaked the wide straps in a combination of the yellow and the brownish liquids. Tressie instructed Brenan that he had to stay laying prone for at least a few more days, to his dismay.

**********

"All right, let's go!" Talut called out, and the raft was pushed out into the river by four men at the rear.

There were six men on the raft, three of them had all wood paddles, and the other three had the paddles with the palm leaf mat ends. As soon as the raft was clear of the banks, all six men started paddling furiously upriver, trying to stay parallel to the near bank.

Talut and Branag were at the front end of the raft, and both had the three piece wood paddles. Both men dug the paddles hard into the water, pulling hard as the raft fought to move upriver slowly. It took a little bit before they settled into a rhythm that allowed them to keep their balance on the swaying platform of the raft.

Draag and Danug manned the middle of the raft, each of them had the paddles made with the palm leaf mats. As they pulled against the slight current, the matted ends bent back slightly from the weight of the water and the force of the strong men's efforts.

Salen and Thorec manned the rear, Salen with a matted paddle, and Thorec had a three piece wooden paddle. They pulled together, and as all six men finally found a rhythm, the raft started upstream a little faster.

The all wooden paddles proved to be the best, though they were harder to build and took longer to make. The woven mat paddles softened just enough when immersed in the river that they got a little bit too pliable. The raft began to list to the left as the men paddled in unison, the matted paddles were not as efficient and lost some of their bite in the clear water.

At the rear of the raft, Thorec slipped and almost went overboard. He was able to grab onto a junction of strapping that held the rear logs of the raft together and regain his balance. When he slipped, the raft straightened up a little at the sudden loss of propulsion. Thorec's paddle almost slipped out of his free hand, dragging in the water behind the craft. He got a fresh, stronger grip on it and as soon as he did , the raft gently veered back toward shore the slightest little bit.

Thorec was sitting back up when he saw the telltale ripple of the water at his paddle, it caused a small vee shape that was running opposed to the wake of the craft. When he was back upright, he twisted the paddle a little, and watched the ripple change directions slightly. The pull of the water against his submerged paddle gave him an odd feeling that spawned an unusual idea. He shifted the paddle angle a little bit, and felt the raft pull against the flat of the paddle with a little more force. The raft began to change direction again slowly. Thorec grinned, and held on tight as the water pressure increased a little more and the raft slowly turned out toward the center of the river.

The current of the river increased as the raft drifted out further toward the middle, and the front of the raft was pulled gently around by the soft swells. Thorec shifted the paddle angle a little more, and the raft slowly responded by turning harder, now pointing back down stream.

The other five men kept paddling, all of them a little confused at the changing directions of the raft that appeared to be at random. Danug noticed how quickly the raft had turned and got a sudden stab of fear about losing control of the craft and being swept downstream toward the falls. He wasn't the only one with the thought. Danug dug in and paddled harder, throwing off the rhythm of the rest of the rowers. The raft bobbed and slowed as the rest of the rowers worked against each other for a bit, their steady rhythm was temporarily lost entirely.

Wymez and Rymar watched from the shoreline with the Mog-ur, Rug and several other men and women. It was obvious after observing the men paddling for a little bit that some of the paddles worked better than the others.

When Thorec started steering the raft from the rear, it garnered a little surprise from the shoreline audience. From their vantage point, the raft simply looked to be out of control at first, and it was a bit of a scary sight.

"Why isn't Thorec paddling anymore? He is messing up their rhythm and direction." Rymar asked to no one in particular.

"I don't know, but he looks to be dragging his paddle." Wymez answered.

"But it looks like he is doing it on purpose, I wonder what he's thinking?" Rymar said softly.

From the far southeastern bank, a crocodile plopped into the water from the low rise of the rocky bank, a thin ripple following him on the surface.

Mog-ur grunted softly, pointing at the small wedge shaped head of the croc as he swam slowly toward the raft, his wide tail swishing back and forth.

"Talut!" Wymez called out. "Crocodile!" He pointed at the eastern bank, and Talut looked over in that direction, slowing his paddling as he did.

The raft listed in the water as the rowers pushed it through the river without direction and a uniform effort.

"Get it together!" Talut called out, holding his paddle out of the water. "Now, stroke, stroke!"

Following Talut's call, the rowers paused and looked at each other. With a concerted effort they all got together again, all except for Thorec. Thorec changed the angle of his dragging paddle, and the raft turned slowly again, this time back toward the banks where they originally launched. The raft still wandered a bit, the men's paddles were not equal in their ability to pull against the water, but the raft generally stayed in Thorec's control.

With a little trial and error, Thorec steered them back to shore from the rear of the raft with relative ease, grounding the front against the low gravel and mud bank.

The rowers all slumped a bit, sweat covering their upper bodies as several men hopped into the water to hold the raft steady and secure.

**********

Latie held out a steaming cup of tea, Brenan took it from her with a smile. He sipped it as she sat down beside him, putting her hand on his good thigh. The tea tasted almost fruity, having a hint of banana flavor to it. Brenan grinned, he knew of Latie's overt fondness of strawberries, and her new passion for the odd yellow and green skinned fruit. He sipped the hot tea again, savoring the new taste, this was really good.

"Where is Bralut?" He asked her softly as she squeezed his thigh gently.

"He is with Nezzie, he and Manut are fighting over her breasts like she only has one or something." Latie said smiling. "Bralut is winning."

Brenan chuckled, and took another sip.

"I think mother is happiest with a baby in each arm." Latie whispered as she took a sip of her own tea.

"That woman was born to be a mother."

"How are you feeling this morning?"

Brenan shifted his position a little, putting a little weight on his injured thigh as he flexed the muscles gently, cringing slightly as he did. "It feels a little better, but that is one sore leg, my love."

Latie smiled. "Tressie says it is getting better, but she was a little worried about the infected places. She will be back to check it again in a little bit, she and Matera are cooking up a new concoction to put on it at the main fire."

"Good." Brenan said with a bit of sarcasm in his voice. "I can hardly wait."

**********

The men wrestled the heavy raft back up onto the bank, stopping only when the majority of the craft was out of the water. The rowers all tossed their paddles onto the grass, and gathered to rest and to talk about what all they had just learned.

They discussed the merits of both types of paddles for a while, eventually deciding that the wooden ones were the best, even though one of the all wood ones had come apart. Talut had pulled a little too hard, and one of the two flat flaps had come untied and flopped freely before falling off entirely. The mat ends had flexed too much when the water softened them, and they lost too much of their bite to be effective.

Wymez and Rymar listened, and made a few suggestions as to how to improve the wood paddles. The current design and its variations were sound enough, with the aid of a few needed modifications.

Thorec stayed rather quiet throughout the talk of the paddles, thinking silently about what he had inadvertently discovered. It was a difficult concept, and thinking it through was hard on his head. He had steered the raft, but just exactly how he did it and why it worked was confusing. He noticed Talut and the Mog-ur both staring at him from time to time, his face reddened as he tried to figure out how to tell them what he had done. Never a man of many words, he pondered how to explain something he really didn't understand himself, but knew that he would have to soon.

The discussions continued, dissecting the merits and flaws of the wood paddles. Numerous suggestions were made and eventually a new plan of action developed.

**********

The entire afternoon was spent diligently working on the all wood paddles. Talut and Wymez decided that they could get four men on each side of the raft, and it was deemed that a few extras would be handy to have as well. In all, they would build twelve paddles, just in case they were needed.

There wasn't enough leftover wood from the raft to make as many of the flat blades as were needed, so Danug and Branag went out in search of one more of the soft wood trees to cut down. They found one not too far from camp, near the creek to the northwest.

Thorec and Salen went out in search of more limbs to make poles out of. They wanted the harder, more dense and less flexible limbs to make these out of and had a lot of choices in potential trees to choose from.

Wymez and Rymar helped to shape the flat blades with some new scrapers fashioned from one of the broken axe heads that Talut had shattered a few days back.

Ranec came up with a design modification on how the flat pieces fit together at the end of the poles, though it required an extra step. It helped the two blades fit tighter together and gave a better place to tie them to the poles. The paddle that Talut had broken taught them a lot about the slight deficiency of that particular design. Ranec's new design should help to strengthen the end of the paddles where the flat blades attached to the poles to prevent any further failures.

The east side of the camp was a bustle of activity, different work on stages of the paddles going on in small clumps.

**********

Draag held pressure on the long, almost flat stick as Brug scraped it down the full length of it on the near side. A thin strip of dark wood followed behind the scraper, curling as it grew longer. The muscles in Brug's arm flexed and rippled at the constant, but controlled effort of holding the scraper straight and true.

When he reached the end of the stick, Brug started again at the top, taking a deep breath as he began. He pulled the scraper slowly, cutting a little deeper this time.

Mortan and Druwez had several long, thin spear shafts between them, using their flint knives to gently strip the bark off them. As big around as their fingers, and as long as their arms, these thin shafts posed a new set of challenges in the shaping of them. Neither had ever tried to work such thin sticks before, and they had a lot of learning to do to figure it all out, but they didn't allow such minute details to discourage them.

Frebec brought over a handful of different thicknesses of small vines, Crisavec tagged along, a few vines in his hands as well. Frebec sat down and watched as Brug got to the end of the long stick, marveling at the strong lads control as he reached the bottom. Sweat dripped off Brug's face, and Frebec noticed the beginnings of a small tuft of light colored hair at the bottom of Brug's chin. He grinned, boys didn't stay boys for very long, he mused to himself.

**********

The next two days passed quickly. A storm blew through yesterday dumping a fair amount of rain for the better part of the day, but bright sunshine dried things out rather quickly as the storm blew past. The humidity was stifling as the sun beat down, casting wide bands of steam up in the late afternoon.

**********

The paddles were all finished up, and a small fire was set up in the large traveling tent. This was where Vincavec and Branag cooked up a small hanging skin of a thick glue to coat the leather and vine strips that secured the flat blades to the poles.

Ranec and Rymar, assisted by an enthusiastic Ralev, used some sandstone to smooth the pole shafts. Both men looked odd, having shaved off their beards. Rymar's cheeks were pink, having not shaved in as long as he could remember, and the skin was a little tender. Ranec had a thick stubble still around the bottom of his chin where the hair grew in the thickest, but was resolved to shave again in a few days when the soreness lessened some.

The normal heat of the days here had prompted both men to shave to give themselves a little relief from the stickiness of a steady supply of sweat that was a regular occurrence. By the end of the day, only Rug and the Mog-ur were left with beards. The rest of the men had seen and talked to Ranec and Rymar, and decided that this was well worth a try.

The camp's appearance was changing almost daily of late. Few people wore more than short leggings or tied loincloths during daylight hours anymore. With the exception of hunters going out in their camouflaged hunting clothes, and a few sleeveless vests, clothes were left off more than worn.

The men all got a lot of stares, some, much like Rymar and the men of the Clan had never shaved and it was strange to see how much their appearance changed without the facial hair.

Ova, in particular, had a strong urge to run her hands over Draag's smooth, ruggedly handsome face. Draag was pleasantly surprised by his mate's increased attention and interest in him, and found himself brimming with urges to couple with her. By evening, he had pleasured her three times and felt like a much younger man again.

Seeing this odd, but pleasing behavior, Rug had asked Etra to shave him as the sun went down. The two of them were a little late for the evening meal, having taken a long walk by themselves when she finished. The flushed look on Etra's face when they returned to camp spoke volumes about what they had been up to.

Latie shaved Brenan, convincing him that he would be the only man left in the camp if he didn't allow it. Brenan didn't protest much, seeing the wisdom of it all. He had regularly shaved his beard in the summers anyway before they started on this arduous journey of theirs.

When she had washed his face, she had gone on to give him a full body wash with fresh water and soft rabbit skins. She was very careful when she sat on Brenan, honoring the Mother with him slowly and carefully.

**********

The raft was partially loaded, held in place in the shallows by Frebec and Vincavec with thick vines that were tied to the front and rear perpendicular logs. A single row of bundles was secured down the center and Etra and Tulie sat in the one blank space left between them in the middle.

Talut manned the front of the raft with Danug next to him at the opposite corner, the center rowers were Branag and Draag, with Troog and Salen at the rear. Thorec sat at the rear in the center, he held an extra wide paddle made from three blades in lieu of two like the rest of them. His paddle had a much shorter handle, and was made from a thicker pole than the other paddles as well.

The water was still a little murky and muddy from the recent rain storm, and you couldn't see the bottom except from really in close to the shoreline.

"All right, let's stay together and don't rush the tempo." Talut said, grinning back at the rest of them. "Push us off, men."

Vincavec and Frebec tossed the vines to Etra and Tulie, then gave the raft a shove, and stepped back up onto the banks as the raft slowly floated out away from them. The raft pointed slightly to the right and Talut and Danug both dipped their paddles into the water and gave it a strong pull. The rest of the rowers joined them on their third stroke, timing their strokes with Talut and Danug carefully, and the raft moved forward slowly.

Thorec dropped his wide oar into the water, and held it at a slight angle. As the raft started forward slowly, the nose began to turn to the right toward the main body of the river. Talut and Danug held a nice steady rhythm which the rest of the rowers copied closely. They took their time and the rest of the rowers kept up easily as the raft turned and made slow progress upstream.

A huge gather at the banks kept a watchful eye out for crocodiles, but with everyone on the raft well out of the water the actual danger the quick animals represented was deemed to be much less than before. Brug and his two hunting partners watched from the low branches of the trees much as they had done while the ledge markers had been set out a few days before. Only two of the markers still floated in place, the rest having been washed away by the river.

The raft was now heading across the river at a steep angle, the nose still pointing slightly upstream. The men kept the steady rhythm on the oars, and the raft slid into the current gracefully. Thorec held the direction of the raft as it slid downstream a little in the heavier current, and though losing a little ground, the direction never really faltered much. He had to constantly adjust the angle of his paddle to keep the direction steady, but Thorec learned more and more as he went along.

"Groc!" Brug's deep voice boomed out, as a pair of crocodiles plopped into the water from the rock island to the northeast.

Tulie sat up on her knees, and looked to the island as the rowers stayed busy. From her vantage point, she couldn't see them yet but she watched the water knowing they were coming. She grasped the axe handle in her hands, hoping she would have no need of it.

The current pulled the raft more southerly, and Thorec kept up his corrections with his wide paddle. The raft was picking up a little speed in the current, the faster moving water pulling it more and more downstream. Thorec pulled the paddle into a steeper angle, the water pressure pulling hard against him. The muscles in his arms rippled from the strain, and the raft responded slowly to the harder turn, the nose slowly turning slowly in response to the make shift rudder.

Tulie finally spotted the two crocodiles, from the angle that they approached, it looked like they would pass by harmlessly in the wake of the raft. The raft was moving pretty quick for such a cumbersome and clumsy craft now, and with Thorec steering from the rear it was behaving rather well, all things considered.

The raft finally cleared the heavy current, and Talut slowed the rhythm slightly. The rowers all needed the break, rowing was hard work and they all felt the strain of their efforts. The craft straightened up a little more, and Thorec pointed it to a wide patch of shade between two huge trees that overhung the river in a slight bend in the banks in the distance.

A crocodile slid into the water from within the shade of a tree well to the south, the tell tale ripples of his wake pointed right at the raft. No one noticed.

Talut slowed the rowers a little more as the raft cleared the strength of the current, and Thorec was able to relax a little as the hard water pressure eased off slightly from the stronger currents of before. The raft made steady progress toward shore, veering slightly northeasterly toward the wide pocket of shade.

Tulie saw that the two crocs had corrected their approach, and their swishing tails created a wide wake that was now easy to follow. They were coming in from almost directly behind them now, and picking up speed.

"Thorec, watch out behind you." Tulie said, wishing that she was closer to the rear of the raft. She looked to Etra right behind her and made a quick sign. 'Watch behind.'

Etra nodded while she got a better grip on the axe handle in her lap. She shifted and turned her body to face the back of the craft, and spotted the twin ripples from the crocs. They were gaining on them quickly as the raft slowed.

The raft was gliding smoothly in the calm waters, the shore getting closer steadily. Talut and his rowers kept up a nice rhythm with the oars, propelling them at a nice, measured pace.

"Thor-ak!" Etra's voice was clipped and had an urgent edge to it. She pointed at the water right behind him.

Thorec saw the eyes of both crocs rise up higher out of the water right behind him, and he instinctively pulled his paddle out of the water and leaned away from the back of the raft. Etra held out the handle of the axe to him, and he took it as he laid the paddle down .

The axe was heavy, and as he got a grip on the handle, the nearest croc slid under the surface of the water, disappearing into the muddy water. The second croc kept coming, his head rising slightly higher out of the water as he got closer.

"Groc"! Brug's voice carried over the water, almost as if through a thick fog. From the low branches of the tree, Brug pointed frantically to the right of the raft. He screamed out again.

Talut kept his eyes straight ahead, the rocky bank getting closer, he sped up the rhythm slightly. Without warning the other rowers, this threw the others off time for a bit before they all eventually got it all together again. The raft drifted a little to the right in the long moment of confusion.

Thorec lifted the axe, watching as the croc got closer. He held it steady, his biceps flexing as he prepared to swing the heavy weapon.

Talut almost lost his balance as the croc to his immediate right side broke through the water almost at his knee. The croc raised up out of the water with a lunge, mouth wide open and his tail swishing. The water churned under the powerful motions of the tail, and Talut flopped over onto his side onto the main body of the raft to get away from the rows of jagged teeth. His wide body crashed to the deck, his left shoulder bearing the brunt of his weight.

The crocs lower jaw made contact with the outside log of the raft, and Tulie swung her axe from an awkward stance, leaning far forward on her knees. The axe hit hard, hitting the croc just in front of his eyes, the axe blade shattered as the beast dropped off the log and writhed wildly in the water sending a wide spray in all directions.

The raft turned to the left as the rowers on the left side overpowered the now fewer rowers on the right. The craft bobbed in the water as Talut's body weight hit the front of the raft in the center of the craft.

Thorec swung his axe as the soon as the croc looked to be close enough. His aim was ever so slightly off as the raft wallowed slightly by Talut's tremendous weight shift, and he caught the croc with a glancing blow on the side of its hard head. The crocodile spun in the water, splashing the rear section of the raft with several streams of spray. The water churned as the croc went under, leaving a wide swell of distorted water on the almost still surface.

The raft hit the bank of the river at an angle. The left front corner dug into the mud and gravel, turning the craft in a slow circle that pushed the left side of the raft up against the gravelly shore.

Danug and Draag hopped ashore, holding the two lengths of vine that were tied to the front and rear cross members to hold the raft stationary. A collective sigh of relief sounded as the tired crew all took a deep breath. Talut sat up slowly, rubbing his sore shoulder and grinning broadly.

Downstream the surface of the water exploded when a wounded croc surfaced on his side, his tail churning the water putting the injured animal into a slow, macabre looking spin.

Danug and Branag spotted one of the injured crocodiles floating awkwardly in the shallows to the north, its spiny tail twitching. With Branag and Talut flanking them with axes held high, they dragged the huge beast ashore through the waist deep water.

**********

The return trip went well, Talut and his other three rowers had little trouble getting the light, empty raft back across with Thorec's ever improving maneuvering skills. A line of bundles and people waited for them ashore. No crocodiles had threatened on the return trip, though one had passed by them a short distance away out in front of them.

This trip, the center of the raft was burdened with the larger of the two traveling tents. Even when folded up and tied into a long, tight bundle, it took up a lot of room. Nezzie and Inca sat on each end of the tent, with five children straddling it between them. This trip would have more people and less supples. There would also be two additional rowers this time, Talut looked to ease the burden and speed up the trip across.

It worked well, and the second crossing went easily.

**********

By mid afternoon, the last crossing was done, and the raft had been grounded well up from the river's edge. Tulie had located a nice place to set up the camp, and the process of re-establishing a base camp was well in progress.

Situated nicely in the shade of two tall, wide spread trees in a soft bed of short grass and leaves, the two tents were set up side by side with a slight breeze blowing through. The spot was only a short walk from the river, and while ringed with short trees and brush, there was a slight clearing to the south side beyond the southern shade tree.

The main camp fire pit was dug out and ringed with rock. It was strategically placed between the trees where the soft winds would push the smoke well to the right of the tents. Three perimeter fires were set up and provisioned, and three short seating logs ringed the main fire pit.

The succulent smells of roasting croc tail strips on the spit gave everyone a slight boost of energy as the camp slowly took shape. This long hard day finally wound down as darkness slowly fell.


	32. Chapter 24 Part 1

**Chapter Twenty Four**

_**A New Home**_

**Part One**

Brenan sat on a seating log in the flickering light and warmth of the main camp fire sipping tea with Talut, Vincavec and Latie. Etra topped off the tea cups before sitting next to Latie and having a steaming cup herself. Rug walked in from the cover of darkness with Danug, they had been on watch at the west perimeter fire. Salen and Troog soon came in from the south, both men yawning from their stint on the second watch. All four men took tea from Etra as she got up to serve them. It had been a quiet, but long night.

Bralut stood in Brenan's lap, rubbing his pudgy little hands over Brenan's stubbly chin. The little boy had a bit of a fascination with Brenan's face ever since he shaved off his beard. Brenan held the boy securely with one hand clasped firmly under his arm. A thin pole with a padded 'T' at one end of it lay propped up between Latie and Brenan on the log.

The sun was not due up for a little while yet, and the air was cool. A soft breeze rustled the wide leaves in the trees above, gusting occasionally with cool, fresh air.

Yesterday they had moved inland away from the rivers edge and through the woods. Grounding the raft high up the grass bank, it was left inland far enough that it should still be there if ever needed. They finally come across this small clearing where they had decided to make camp until they located a place good enough to make a real home. Brenan had used a crutch that Branag and Danug had made for him. He could now walk with the aid of the odd tool, though it hurt his underarm to do it for very long at a time.

The clearing was nestled in amongst several wall, wide trees with a ground covering of short, bright green grass. Twenty five paces to the north, the creek that Brenan and Rug had scouted several days before wound its way through the woods. Today, they would explore farther up the banks of this creek to check out the pond and the clearing just past it. The search for a new home was the top priority now.

Brug and Mortan came out of the tent dressed in their camouflaged hunting attire. They carried their spear scabbards loose in their hands, and made their way over to the tea basket. Mortan dipped two cups and the boys sat between Talut and Danug on the eastern most log.

Danug signed and spoke at the same time, his normally big voice soft in the quiet of the morning. "Where are you planning to hunt this morning?"

Mortan sipped his tea, then answered. "Brug wants to hunt down river near the cliff. We think there may be suidae or river hogs there."

Talut grinned and sighed, the thought of fresh suidae roasting on the spit making his big belly rumble. He flashed them a quick sign that meant simply, 'good hunting'.

Druwez and Branag came out of the tent, Druwez was dressed in the hunting attire, but Branag carried his hunting tunic over his shoulder wearing only the short leggings and foot covers. Branag yawned loudly, spoiling the quiet of the peaceful morning and making the rest of them smile at him.

Inca and Tulie came out of the tent with a couple of small baskets each, Ooga followed carrying a single basket, struggling slightly with its weight. They acknowledged the others and started unpacking food stuffs onto a thick hide near the fire. Tulie set up a hanging stew skin on a tripod while Inca began sorting through wrapped packages of cooked meats and Ooga fetched them tea.

Birdsongs from the east were answered from the west first, then gradually from all sides surrounding the camp. Deep pitched clucking came from the southeast, and slight rustles could be heard through the grass. A single high pitched screeching rang out from nearby to the south, its ominous sounds sending chills through those at the fire.

"Anyone know what that was?" Danug asked when the weird sound faded.

No one answered, but a few rubbed the chill bumps off their bare arms.

Branag finished off his tea and stood up to pull on his hunting tunic. The three boys all got up and slung their scabbards into place, glad that Branag was getting ready to go. They took a few moments to check out the sprigs and grass that stuck out of the small loops in their clothes, rearranging it until they were all satisfied.

"We'll be back later with fresh meat for the mid day meal." Branag said, smiling as Brug led his younger hunting partners into the darkness to the south. Branag gripped his favorite spear and followed.

**********

Brug was right, they found suidae tracks in the mud at the river banks. They took their time and tracked them for a while before finally spotting the stocky little beasts wallowing in the muddy shallows. They were in a wide, thin nook in the river, well out of the current amongst the narrow green shoots of some type of water plants that grew there in the calm water. It appeared to be several adults and a handful of half grown young.

The three hunters spread out and began working themselves into a wide semi circle before encroaching the shoreline. They moved slowly, staying hidden by brush and tall grass, weaving in through the trees.

Branag hung back, finding a comfortable place to kneel behind a spiky plant with stiff shoots and long green leaves that fanned out from the center. He loved watching the young hunters work, they moved so quietly and efficiently that he often lost sight of them.

The sun cast long shadows as it rose slowly into a mostly clear sky, already taking the slight chill out of the morning air. A brilliantly colored green bird screeched loudly as it swooped down to the rivers edge, flaring its bright wings and landing lightly on its feet. It screeched again before walking calmly to the water and getting a drink.

**********

Talut led the large group of men and women through the woods with Danug at his side. Both men carried long throwing spears, but neither had spares strapped across their backs. Mog-ur and Rymar followed closely behind them with Rug and Wymez right behind them. In all, some fifteen camp members had joined the exploratory expedition. Thorec and Regan brought up the rear of the scattered line of people, Regan carrying a happy, just fed Werlen in the crook of her arm. Both had spears as was necessary for a rear guard.

They all walked along at a relaxed, slow pace, taking in the surrounding scenery with interest. There was so much to see as the woods thinned a bit, and the early morning sun felt so good on their bare skin. Without realizing it, they were all starting to get deep, dark tans. Few wore tunics anymore during the heat of the day, and the sun was even starting to lighten their hair, especially those with light blond or reddish colors.

Tulie and Etra stopped many times to dig into the dirt with their short digging sticks to unearth tubers and fat root bulbs. Little Ooga carried a gathering basket and stayed between them, it was already covered full across the bottom with delectable tidbits.

When they reached the creek, Talut led them on upstream. The near side of the creek was a little muddy still from the recent rain storm, and animal tracks were abundant. Mostly large grazers, the tracks also included almost human looking prints as well as more than a few large cat tracks.

It was a pleasant early morning walk, and they were in no particular hurry. When Etra spotted a batch of onions growing near the creek bank, they all paused and helped as she and Tulie gathered up over half a basket full of the strong smelling, bulbous vegetables.

**********

Branag had lost sight of all three hunters, he studied the surroundings all around the nook where the pigs wallowed in the shallows carefully. It was a game he liked to play, which hunters could he spot first. They were all so stealthy in their hunting garb that it was a very challenging game.

A slight movement in amongst the shaded deep greens caught his eye. He recognized Brug as the young man stood up and with a quick twist of his stout upper body flung a flat stone toward the water with both hands. The rock sailed through the air out over the suidae and splashed loudly in the water beyond them.

The suidae were startled and sloshed toward the banks splashing through the water, struggling to run ashore up the mud and gravel bank. From the cover of the low brush and the dark shadows, two spears hit their marks, toppling an adult pig and one of the younger ones from opposite directions. A third spear flew from Brug, hitting the lead pig squarely in the chest.

Branag caught sight of Druwez to the far side as he let fly another spear, hitting another adult in the rear flank. The pig rolled over with the impact then struggle to run on dragging the heavy spear. A spear from Brug stopped her in her tracks and Mortan missed his target when the sow fell, his spear sailing just over her head. Brug missed one of the young pigs when it did a sudden zig zag maneuver, and the rest of the pigs disappeared into the brush. Branag counted four downed suidae as the three hunters approached the killing field.

**********

Tressie smeared an auburn colored paste over the last two bright red spots on Brenan's thigh. The rest of the wounds were closed up tight, thin pink lines creating an odd pattern on his leg that were devoid of hair and stood out like a hodge-podge, roughly drawn tattoo. Some light discoloring from the fading bruises still surrounded the center of the thigh, but all the deep purple and blue bruising was gone now. The bright red spots still had narrow gaps where the skin was slower to heal, but all in all the thigh was well on its way.

Brenan gritted his teeth against the harsh sting of the paste, Tressie had last lanced the three small infected pockets two days ago. Though the skin was healing, it still had a few really tender places where the infection was slow to dissipate. There was one long, thin lump that ran at a slight angle where Tressie had used the glowing embers to sear the flesh and stop the worst of the bleeding. This wound had dark places that would probably never go away, it looked like a jagged series of splotches and streaks. The leg was the sorest here, and Brenan knew that there was some muscle damage that may very well be permanent.

Tressie took her time to wrap the thigh back up, careful to not pull the wide cover straps too tight. When she finished and sat back, she grinned at him.

"It looks much better today, I think the worst is over now." Her voice was perky as usual when things were going well. "As soon as those last three places close up you will be able to put your full weight on the leg again, probably a few more days. It will probably be really sore though."

"Good, that crutch hurts more than my leg does." Brenan answered her with a chuckle.

Tressie smiled as she continued. "You say that now, just wait until you start walking on it again."

Brenan laughed with her, knowing all too well the pains of getting an injured limb back into shape.

**********

"I think these are the types of canes that the tribes here use to build their huts out of." Wymez said as he ran his hands over the thick, freshly cut cane stalk. "When they are dried properly they are very stiff and strong."

Rymar and the Mog-ur flanked him, feeling the smooth surface of the long pole.

Wymez signed to the Mog-ur. 'Is good building material, see before?'

Mog-ur closed his eyes for a moment before signing in answer. 'It does look familiar. I will search the memories later.'

The cane patch was huge. Long and thick along the near shore of the pond, it was this thicket that helped formed the dam that backed the creek up into this wide pond. The ground dropped off slightly, aiding the smooth rocks and boulders in the dam made by Mut herself to hold back the water.

Danug approached carrying a large, smooth, chalky colored rock. He was grinning from ear to ear. When Wymez saw him coming, he grinned also.

"I wondered if there was any decent flint here, knock off some of the surface, let's see how good that stone really is."

Danug knelt as he reached the three men, and pulled a hammer stone from a pouch on his belt. The three men watched as Danug began to chip the chalky surface of the stone. A dark grey core slowly emerged, glistening in the brightness of the sun. Smiles spread between them as they passed the stone, it looked good. Very good.

**********

Branag had two of the field dressed suidae slung over one shoulder, and the other two over the other. With their feet tied together with small pieces of vine, their weight balanced well and was no problem at all for a big, strong man like him to carry. Brug wanted to try and track the suidae down and have another go at them since it was still so early in the day, and Branag agreed. With as many mouths to feed as they had back at the camp, more meat wouldn't hurt a bit.

Brug led, following the tracks with Druwez and Mortan flanking him several paces back. The tracks were pretty easy to follow, but they had to slow down every now and then to reacquire them when they grew scarce. The boys moved slowly, staying as quiet as the rustling breeze.

Branag was surprised how far the suidae had run, they had been tracking them for quite a while when he saw Druwez' posture change ever so slightly. With a subtle, soft clicking sound the other two went into a stance that almost caused them to disappear in the scattered brush.

Hand signals passed between the three of them, and the formation of the hunters slowly changed as Druwez took the lead and moved on through the tall grass and brush due south. The three moved together so well it was as if they were almost a single hunter. Branag slowed, letting them get a little further out before following again. The last thing he wanted was to mess up their hunt.

Druwez ducked in behind a wide splayed, short tree, and motioned for the other two to take up positions father to the east. Moving slowly, they followed his signs and fanned out. When they were all where Druwez wanted them, he dropped to his knees and slid around the outskirts of the wide slung branches and stayed low as he crawled up to a wide patch of tall grass.

Branag watched with increased interest when Druwez, who was still on his hands and knees, lifted his right arm and after adjusting his balance, threw the spear from this awkward position. He could hear a definite rustling in the grass as Brug and Mortan both threw spears of their own, and a sudden spate of deep clucking sounds as well as a few heavy wings beating the air. Mortan was visible as he stood and flung another spear, then all three boys took off running, fresh spears up on high.

Grinning, Branag watched them disappear into the brush, and walked slowly toward their target area. He was pleasantly surprised at what he found there. Three mortally wounded guineas and one extra spear stuck in the ground. He knew now where the boys had gone. They would be in rapid pursuit of the rest of the big, fast running birds that would rather outrun you than fly away. He took his time finishing off the birds, then tied their feet together to add to his load of pigs.

Following the trail the boys left wasn't too hard for an experienced tracker like Branag, bent grass and an occasional slide mark in the soft dirt led him through the sparse woods. Branag came across two more guineas on each side of the thick base of a tall, heavily leafed tree. The cool shade felt good on his sweaty body, and the soft breeze had the slight scent of moisture to it. Branag looked up at the sky, walking out into the sun to see a pair of long, wispy clouds high and to th east. He took another deep breath in through his nose.

That's water all right, I wonder how close we are to the cliff and the waterfall from here, he mused. Branag did a slow turn and studied the landscape. It was breathtaking, scattered large trees creating huge, wide swaths of shade, deep green grass as tall as his knees, wide splaying palms, tall and short. As he turned more to his right there were more and more exposed, dark and light grey rocks. Some were pretty large, but most were a little bigger than Talut's big butt, Branag giggled at his own measure of the sizes of the stones. A decent sized stand of banana trees, with several low hanging bunches of bright green bananas.

Branag took it all in slowly, he felt a tingling in his hands as he found that he liked pretty much everything he saw. Such a bountiful land, such a beautiful place.

"Branag!" Druwez' voice was low but strong enough to carry over the sixty odd paces that he was away to the southeast in the shade of a tree.

Branag looked at Druwez, and realized the boy was signing to him with heavily over exaggerated signs of the Clan language. He focused on the signs and the words slowly formed in his head. 'Come quick, hurry, you have to see this!'

There was no look of impending danger from the excited boy, so Branag relaxed. Going back into the shade of the tree, Branag fetched the two guineas and trotted toward where Druwez had been. The boy was gone, Branag sped up just a little.

**********

"This place is so beautiful." Vincavec overheard Tulie and Regan talking, Regan was obviously impressed with the surroundings. All the men and women seemed to be rather pleased with this beautiful place, walking around and exploring the pond.

"It is that." Tulie answered. "There is so much of everything, tubers, onions, mushrooms..."

Vincavec looked over at Talut who was obviously deep in thought as he observed the whole area. He walked over and stood next to the big headman. "Pretty, isn't it?"

Talut grinned. "Very pretty."

"Then why is it that I don't have that feeling that this is really our new home?" Vincavec asked.

Talut was quiet for a long time as he considered his words carefully, and when he did answer, his voice was soft. "Remember the feeling in your belly when we first saw the valley that became your home?"

Vincavec nodded, then smiled up at Talut. "Your right, I don't feel it---yet."

"It is a nice place though..."

**********

Talut followed his nose back to camp, it wasn't hard, the wind was perfect. He distinguished the smells rather easily while still a good distance away, and as his stomach began to growl, he sped up accordingly. The rest of the large group straggled along behind him, losing their close proximity to him as his long legs began churning up the ground. When the scents reached Danug in the middle of the pack, he left most of the rest of them in his wake as well.

The boys must have found the suidae they were after, Talut thought to himself as he moved quickly through the scattered trees and brush. A particularly strong smell reached his well trained nasal passages, and he grinned broadly suddenly recognizing the delectable scent of roasting guineas.

Talut felt a sudden yank on the back of his short leggings at the waist, and it almost stopped him in his tracks, adversely affecting his balance to the point of him stumbling slightly. A wide shape passed him, and Talut grinned as Danug rushed by. With a bellow from Talut, and a gasping laugh from Danug, the race was on.

**********

The camp was abuzz when Talut arrived, a few paces behind a panting Danug. Both men were bathed in sweat and dripping as they examined the multiple spit poles. One pole, the largest of the three, held two full hind quarters of the largest suidae, and the entire carcass of the yearling between them. The second pole held three front halves of full sized suidae and a guinea, the smallest pole skewed four more guineas and a rear half of suidae.

The smells that permeated the entire camp area were absolutely torturous, especially to Talut and Danug. Both of them walked slowly around the fire, carefully judging to see if anything was done enough to pull off the fire for a quick snack. Nezzie and Inca caught on quickly, and shooed them away offering a small platter of seasoned, cooked bananas. It wasn't fresh roasted meat, but it pacified the two hungry men, at least for a while.

Pulling a small, thin strip from a green leaf from the corner of his mouth, Talut looked around for his cadre of young hunters. They were nowhere to be seen, in fact, there were several people missing from the camp. Talut slid the last of the split, seasoned banana into his mouth, relishing the tangy flavor as he chewed the soft fruit slowly.

Matera led a small group of people in from the northwest side of the camp. They were all heavily burdened with freshly filled water bags. The young hunters, along with Branag, Troog, Draag, and Salen carried the lions share of the load. Matera held Lumie at her breast effortlessly with her left arm, and carried a single, bulging water bag with her free hand. Most of the men had two bags each, it was a full camp resupply.

Talut watched as they stashed the bags in the shade, and milled around discussing something in a rather animated fashion. Most of the conversation appeared to be aimed at the three young hunters and Branag. Talut's curiosity was definitely piqued, and he wandered over after handing his empty platter to Inca with a gesture of thanks.

"...and there is even a creek nearby?" Salen asked, while signing at the same time.

Brug nodded, then answered. 'A nice creek, cool, good tasting, clear water.'

Talut stood by, listening and watching intently. Danug sided up to him with a freshly re-supplied platter of bananas. Talut grinned as he took one and paid attention again.

"What about the cliff, how far is it back from the cliff?" Salen asked, his Clan signs a little jerky as he flubbed a couple of the words. Mortan signed the correct words subtly beside Salen, and Brug saw it out of the corner of his eye, understanding better now.

'Cliff is close, but not too close. Easy walking from the shaded cove. Not far, but not too close.' Brug signed slowly, adding a little more emphasis for Salen's benefit. 'From cliff, lake is easy to see below.'

Salen grinned, so did everyone else as they tried to picture that Brug and Mortan had been describing for the last little while. Branag and Druwez had added their own descriptions from time to time as the discussion continued. Since Brug and Mortan had actually found the place, they were left to answer the majority of the seemingly unending stream of questions concerning the find.

"Tell me about the trees again." Matera said as she shifted little Lumie to her other breast.

This time, Branag answered. "It's incredible, six huge, tall trees, all lined up neatly in a wide arc facing the cliff. They are just close enough that their limbs overlap, creating a wide berth of shade. The ground out in front is mostly short grass, but there is also a lot of exposed grey rock. The rock gets more plentiful as you get closer to the cliff. I think we could build in the shade of the trees, or maybe off the trees themselves."

Branag paused, then went on. "It is the most perfect place for a home I have ever seen."

Brug grunted his agreement, and Mortan grinned broadly as he finished signing Branag's words. Druwez simply nodded, then added, "Branag is right, we'll not find a better place to make a home."

Talut grinned, chewing the last piece of banana slowly. After all this time, all these months of traveling, it would only be appropriate for Brug and Mortan to have located our new homestead, he thought to himself. How many meals did these talented young hunters provide along the way, he wondered. How much time did they save us, Talut mused, having returned so early in the mornings with fresh meat so that organized hunts were so rarely needed.

Branag put his arm over Brug's ever widening shoulders, the wide grin of a proud father on his face. Brug looked up at him, the deep seeded affection obvious in his deep brown eyes.

'You can also see the rainbow from the cliff.' Brug signed, then leaned into Branag's body a little, comforting both of them.

**********

The majority of the camp was a little slow getting around the next morning. The magnitude of the feast of the night before enticing more than a few of the travelers to sleep in with still full bellies. The usually soft breezes of the early mornings were stronger and more gusty this morning. The slightly cooler temperatures made it easy to sleep a little later than usual.

Mid morning, after everyone had eaten from the vast variety of leftovers, the camp was broken down. By mid day, they were well on their way following Brug, Mortan, and Druwez through the light brush, almost due south. It was hard for the young men to keep the pace slow enough for the camp to adequately keep up. The excitement they all felt lent a decided spring to their steps.

The sledge that Talut pushed by himself broke down early in the afternoon. When the right runner snapped, Talut propped up the heavy sledge at an angle so he could work on it. He was caught by surprised to see Druwez coming back to him, thinking the boy was going to help him work on the broken runner.

"Talut, why don't we leave it here." Druwez began. "We can pass out the bundles and carry them from here."

Talut looked up at the boy from his kneeling position, a questioning look on his face.

"See the tops of those trees?" Druwez pointed to the southeast. "That's it, that's where we're going."

**********

It was a quiet gather, the entire group stood in awe of the incredible sight. Bundles and backpacks were strewn on the ground all around them, and the two remaining sledges were left parked back at the beginning of the clearing.

The gentle arc of trees created a wide cove of shade that stretched some eighty odd paces from one side to the other. The trees were all tall, the three in the center the tallest while the rest were ever so slightly shorter as they spread out. Thickly leafed, they spread out so wide that their widest outstretching limbs overlapped each other heavily.

A large clearing in front of the shaded cove was carpeted with short, bright green grass with a few exposed grey rocks. The grass grew taller and thicker where it grew out past the dark wide band of shade, with wild flowers intermixed among it adding dots of reds and yellows.

Behind the arc of trees, there was another narrow clearing before the woods began again. The trees here started out a little smaller, sparse at first with an abundance of thick brush, then gradually thickening into a thick forest for as far as they could see.

They all stood at the scattered beginnings of the light brush out in front of the arc of shade. Behind them, the brush and tall weeds continued for another fifty paces to the edge of the cliff. After a long period of silence, soft conversations began as the first travelers broke off to explore the area slowly and reverently.

**********

Brug led Talut and Brenan, who still used the crutch for support out to the edge of the cliff. Latie and Deegie tagged along, both carrying their nursing boys. When they reached the edge of the cliff, the magnificent lands of the flats below took their breath away.

To the right was the thick circle of woods that surrounded the wide lake. To the left a huge herd of the black buffalo darkened the light greens of the knee high grasses. Straight ahead, a vast assortment of deer, antelope, and naked mammoth grazed peacefully. A pride of lions were barely visible in and amongst a small patch of short, tan colored bushes with yellow berries, their natural color blending them into the background deceptively well. Past them, a strung out group of baboons foraged through the tall grass at a relaxed pace.

"Wow." Latie's voice was soft. She was focused on the small herd of striped horses grazing together on the outskirts of the near side of the herd of buffalo. There were several young chasing each other around the rear of the stretched out herd. The antics of the young were amusing as they pranced and reared in their games.

Brenan gazed at the wondrous clarity of the bright, wide rainbow that shown through the rising mists. A black eagle with a light colored underside soared through the bands of red and yellow coming right at them, a silver fish wriggled in his talons.

**********

They set up the tents in the shade of the center most trees, angling them to take advantage of the soft breezes that blew in over the cliff. With all the available loose rock, a huge center fire pit was built far enough out in front of the trees to pose no threat to the lowest lying branches. Work had already begun cutting some of the lowest limbs, Brug and Mortan riding on top of Talut and Danug's shoulders, chopping away. Three perimeter fires were built and provisioned, and two seating logs were found and stripped before being dragged in.

Though tired from a long days walk carrying everything they owned, the overall mood of the camp was as good as it had ever been. People went about the numerous chores of getting everything set up and laid out with a light hearted sense of satisfaction. It was such a fantastic place it was easy to stay motivated.

The evening meal consisted of a suidae based stew with different varieties of tubers and fat roots, spiced with carrots and onions. Thick slices of guinea breast meat was singed over the fire to warm them up, and served with the stew.

The sky was clear and bright with stars and a brilliant crescent moon. The air was pleasantly cool, with a slight scent of the animals of the flats riding on the breeze. Smoke from the central fire rose up and hung in the limbs of the trees before eventually escaping into the sky, casting an eerie, light glow through the dark leaves. A pair of owls perched in the southeastern most tree, hooting occasionally, sometimes together.

The leaders, along with several others, sat around the fire sipping tea. Plans for the nest few days were being discussed, centering mostly around accumulating necessary daily use supplies.

"We'll need to scout out this creek that Brug spoke of, and bring in a good supply of firewood." Vincavec was saying.

"I'd like to see how difficult it is to get down the cliff, we need to lay in a supply of meat before too long." Talut said, thinking aloud. "But with all the hands we have to build with I guess it won't slow our effort much to hunt while we build this new home camp."

Talut's words caused a prolonged silence as they were considered. It was true, this was a large group of very capable and smart people. They could probably make good progress to build their new home and still maintain an adequate food supply as they did. This was a luxury that none of them had ever really considered, the only priorities up until now had been had been the trek itself and being able to survive along the way. Actually being in this place, this new home ready to be established had always seemed so far away. So far in the future that things like this had only been considered in rare moments of quiet on the long trail to get here.

"What type of structures do you think we need to build here?" Tulie's question broke the quiet, but created another one.

**********

Brug and Branag sat next to each other at the perimeter fire nearest the cliff. Brug used a flattened piece of flint to scrape the long piece of hardwood with long, controlled strokes. A thin ribbon of the dense, dark colored wood curled over the smooth grey stone and onto his hand as he slowly pulled the stone the length of the flattened stick.

"Good." Branag said softly, not bothering to sign. He watched the young boy as his biceps flexed in the controlled motion, so smooth that the ribbon didn't break until he reached the end of the stick.

Brug looked up at Branag when he backed off the tension against the stick. Branag nodded as Brug flipped the stick over to start again on the other side. Halfway down the stick, the ribbon broke when the flint caught on a slight imperfection in the dense wood. Brug scowled, and Branag grinned at the look on his face.

Branag reached for the long stick, and when Brug handed it over, he examined the hard spot. Branag pulled his long bladed flint knife from the scabbard in his belt and started gently scraping over the small bulge. Brug watched his every move, committing it all to memory. Before long, the bump was gone, and Branag handed the stick back. Brug set the stick into a comfortable position and went back to work.

A rustling in the grass well past the flickering light of the fire got both their attention. Unable to see what it was, they both grasped spears from the ground at their sides. Whatever it was, it moved quickly and was gone in a hurry. Branag decided they should make another round and check on the other guards.

**********

There weren't too many people left at the fire. It was getting late and most had turned in for the evening as the discussions had drawn on and on..

Mog-ur kept up with the conversation as well as Tornec could continue to translate. He kept missing portions of the discussion as his mind wandered back to one of his last explorations of his deepest memories. Mog-ur kept being drawn to the huts he saw there, in the memories, often times specific details were hard to discern. What had his ancestors used to build these huts, he wondered as he tried to remember details. It was hard, when he had visited these memories he hadn't been studying that aspect of them.

"...but the dirt here is mostly black, I don't know how well it will stand up to the rains." Talut said, continuing to explore the numerous construction possibilities.

"It would require an awful lot of dried grass to even hold it together." Danug replied, his brow wrinkled in concentration. "And even then I don't know how well it will stay together over time. As green as it is here, it must get a lot of rain."

Talut grinned at the young man, it never ceased to surprise him just how much Danug had learned in his year away. The boy had become a man, and it had all seemed to happen while he was gone on his journey. Talut was proud of Danug, proud of the man he had grown up to be. He glanced to Tressie contentedly beside him with her hand resting on his bare thigh, wondering again if she had been blessed. Hoping.

Mog-ur closed his eyes, concentrating again on the small huts. As the memory returned slowly, smaller details began to become clearer. He tried to delve deeper.

The two owls hooted in unison, their clear song filling the night.

**********

Brug stoked the main camp fire, he pushed the wide bed of glowing embers into a pile then added sticks until the blaze was almost smothered. Smoke billowed out from the wide, short pyramid of fresh firewood, and it rose up gracefully into the still air of the early morning. He coughed from the smoke as he leaned in to place the last limb onto the leaning pile, and stepped back to catch his breath. Though he and Branag had taken the first watch, he wasn't tired, Brug had things to do. He watched the smoke billowing off the stack of wood, the glowing embers at the base of the pile shimmering with heat.

Sitting down on the nearest seating log, Brug picked up the stick he was working on and began to examine it carefully. Slightly longer than he was tall, it was bowed a little bit and had been flattened on each side, from one end to the other. The width tapered from as thick as two of his stocky fingers at the center to about half that wide at the ends. The thickness varied from almost as thick as his palm in the middle, to the thickness of his finger as it ended.

Brug ran his fingers over the length of it, first on one side, then on the other. It was scraped smooth, and felt almost wet as he examined it it was so smooth. He pulled a flat flake of flint that was sharpened on one side from a pouch on his belt and gently scraped over a small bump in the center. With a few strokes, it disappeared into the smoothness of the rest of the flattened stick. Brug spent some time squaring the edges a little more, evening it up as thin ribbons of the hard, dense wood littering his lap as he worked.

The light of the fire brightened as the fingers of flame grew through the gaps of the stacked wood, little by little. The fire grew quickly, spreading its warmth and light.

**********

It was a relaxed morning, people got up and around as they woke up on their own in no particular hurry for a change. A large hanging skin of stew simmered at the edge of the fire, and tea baskets had thin tendrils of steam seeping out around the edges of the tightly woven lids. The air was cool, especially in the shade, and the sporadic breeze that blew in over the cliff had the distinct odor of dew riding on it. Birds of all kinds sang in the day, some from the trees of the arc, and others from farther away.

Loose groups of people hung out together all over the camp. Exploring and examining the grounds, the surroundings, the trees, everything. Discussions ran the full gamut, from where and how to build, to how pretty it all was, and everything in between.

Ooga had a bulging hand full of wild flowers, she walked from scattered clump to clump, picking only the prettiest of the flowers in full bloom. As she added to her treasure of color and fragrant scent, she often brought them up to her nose for a sniff. Every sniff made her want to gather more.

**********

Brenan sat patiently as Tressie pulled the wrappings off his thigh. There were two places that the last of the open wounds had stuck to the soft skin, but neither bled when she wet it with water and pulled it free. He winced at the sting when Tressie pulled the second one free, but grinned when he looked down at the thigh. Crisscrossed with bright pink scars, and two rather red areas, the leg looked better than it had just two days ago when she last treated it. Brenan had to admit, it did look funny the way the light brown hair on his leg outlined each of the thin scars, exaggerating them slightly.

"Well, if you feel ready, you can try walking on it today without your crutch." Tressie said as she dabbed a thick yellowish paste on the two open wounds. "Don't do too much at first, I don't want you to split these two last places open again. The leg will be really sore for a while, I don't know how much the damaged muscle has healed."

"Can we leave it open without a wrapping today?" Brenan asked, more to show respect for her helping him than anything else. Tressie was a healer, but Brenan was as well. In all fairness, Brenan was much more accomplished than she was, and had taught her a lot of what she knew.

"Yes, I think that will be all right, but try and keep it clean." She said, smiling at him. The leg was healing well, and Tressie was pleased with the results of her efforts.

"Thank you, Tressie." Brenan said, with no hint of condescension in his voice. "You have done a really good job and I appreciate it."

"See, I must have learned something from all your healing lessons and lectures." Tressie said, chuckling.

Brenan laughed with her, then held his hands out. "So are you going to help me up?"

Tressie stood up, and leaned over to take his hands in her own. She leaned back and pulled against his weight as he stood up, putting almost all of his weight on his good leg. Beads of sweat appeared on Brenan's forehead as he straightened up and stood up at his full height.

Tressie sided up to him, putting her arm around his waist, and Brenan wrapped his arm over her shoulder for support. They took a few tentative steps forward together, the beads of sweat gathering to run down Brenan's grim face.

Sore isn't the word Brenan would have used to describe the injured muscle mass, it hurt so bad it brought tears to his eyes. He clenched his jaw tightly as they walked a few more steps, Brenan putting a little more weight on the leg as the went. The first few steps were almost unbearable, and the next few were almost that bad. By the time they had hobbled over closer to the fire, Brenan's upper body was drenched with sweat. Tressie helped him sit down on the nearest log.

"Wow." Brenan whispered, reaching up to wipe the sweat off his brow.

Tressie grinned at him. "A little sore?"

He couldn't help but to smile back as a large drop of sweat ran down his nose. "A little."

**********

"We have an abundance of building materials to choose from. This land is so rich with things we can use it is simply up to us. What kind of shelter, or shelters do we build?" Talut sat back, looking out at all the faces staring back at him. Tornec sat beside Talut, signing as he spoke. "Do we build one huge lodge for all of us, or small lodges for family groups?"

A rumble of conversation ensued, both spoken, and even a few signing to each other. The mid day meal had been served a little earlier than usual, and most had hung around after eating. For once, no one knew exactly what needed to be done, at least not right now. It was an odd circumstance, one they had not encountered since stopping for a while during the snows of winter so very long ago. It was rare, they needed direction.

"I don't think a single lodge is practical." Branag said, his voice loud enough to be heard over the rest. It quieted as he continued.

"If we build only one lodge it would have to be too big to house us all. I think we should build small lodges for family groups."

"But what about gathers and ceremonies?" Nezzie asked, she had Manut on one knee and little Ooga at her side, playing with the active little boy.

"How about an open shelter with just a roof for gathers?" Tulie chimed in. "This is the Land of the Sun, we shouldn't have to worry much about cold weather or winters as we have known them."

"Or one big lodge and several smaller ones?" Deegie added.

"What about a place for the healers to work?" Tressie asked.

"What about visitors, where will they stay?" Silvie said, thinking aloud, and things got suddenly quiet all around the gathering.

A chuckle from Talut broke the silence, then more joined in. Before long, laughter rang out in force from the entire group. Even those of the Clan were amused at the absurdity of it all. Somehow, they all realized at the same time that even though they were a large camp, the possibility of visitors of their own kind was almost nil. They were alone, now, and probably forever. It was a harsh fact to accept, but it made it no less true.

**********

Mog-ur sat at the edge of the cliff, the breeze was slightly cooler than the building heat of the day and felt good on his bare chest. He thought about the long, drawn out discussion that had gradually just broken up without any kind of firm resolve.

The flats below teemed with life, herds upon herds of grazers and predators slowly going through the motions of their every day existence. The dance of life, every step of which was choreographed with the beauty and balance. The beauty of life in all its abundance, and the balance of quick and certain death at the lethal claws of predators.

The soft sounds of the waterfall was pacifying, relaxing in its low pitched roar that was muted only by the distance between them. The ever present rainbow gave off the perfect appearance of peaceful tranquility that the surrounding lake and the flats beyond belied in their constant fight for survival.

Taking a deep breath, Mog-ur began to clear his mind, pushing away all the random thoughts generated from the discussion and the exquisite view before him. There were memories that he wanted, no needed to visit, again.

**********

Mortan and Druwez worked together to wrap the small spear points with thin strings of soaked sinew, the points fit into a groove meticulously notched into the end of the extremely thin spear shaft. They had fashioned the small spears in several different lengths, with the promise and the challenge of a new weapon it was impossible to know what would eventually work best.

Druwez held the shaft motionless in his hands as Mortan took his time to wrap the end of the sinew through itself to pull it tight. He was deft with his touch, but the close proximity of these working conditions with the smaller shaft and point presented problems he had never incurred before. It was one of the few times he was glad that he was not as big as the men. His own, smaller hands and fingers gave him a dexterity that the larger men would have found cumbersome at the very least.

Two of the small, incomplete spears were soaking in a small trench dug out of the soft black dirt and lined with a small piece of heavy bison skin. The shafts of these two had warped again, and would be soaked and straightened before the two boys made the final decision of whether to finish them up or discard them as useless. Both shafts had already been straightened once, only to have warped again.

In all, they had eight of the small spears in progress. Made in pairs, each pair was a different overall length. All had been notched at the rear and two feathers slid into the slots to help keep the projectile on line and improve the overall accuracy. Several different lengths and heights of feathers were incorporated as well, again, the unknown was a formidable taskmaster.

Branag sat nearby, chipping away at the last three spear points needed to complete the first batch of spears. The diminutive size of the flint points had presented their own problems, Branag had lost three points so far, breaking them in the final stages of shaping and retouching the edges. Wymez' heated stone technique actually hindered the ability to work such small points, to press with even a small punch was often too much for the fragile pieces of stone. Branag was diligent, though, seeing it only as a new challenge. A challenge that he would master, one way or the other.

Brug and Frebec sorted through the pile of small vines, hunting for just the right combination of thickness and strength. Crisavec and Draag helped, pulling the tangles out of the thinnest of the vines so they could be evaluated and tested. Draag would pull one out every now and then and wrap it around his big hands and pull it across his chest. He was so incredibly strong that most of the ones he tried in this fashion broke, but sometimes even his bulging biceps were unable to snap the thin cords of vine. Those he set to his right side, those should be strong enough, he reasoned.

'How attach vine?' Frebec signed.

Brug just shook his head, that was a good question. A question he had no answer for as yet. He looked up into Frebec's eyes and shook his head again, then signed. 'Don't know. You have ideas?'

Frebec grinned as he shook his head slowly. They went back to work.

**********

Talut and Vincavec walked in the shade of the two center most trees of the wide arc. These trees were not only the tallest, but they were the thickest as well. The two men paced off the distance between them, Vincavec kept the count, speaking aloud the number words that Talut had a little trouble with once they got past fifteen or so. They reached the second tree at the count of eighteen.

"That would give us enough room to build the large lodge." Talut said as he looked back to again measure the distance in his mind. "It could be as big as your Cave Bear lodge if we wanted to make it that size."

Vincavec wrinkled his brow in thought as he answered. "Do we want to try and build one that big? I'm not too sure it would be strong enough with only this black dirt to build with."

Talut scrunched his own brow, Vincavec was right. This dirt would not hold together as well as the lighter colored, sticky clay of the lands of the Mamutoi they left so far behind.

"Do we have to build earth lodges? With what all the Mog-ur and Wymez have said about mild winters or no winters at all here, is an earth lodge even necessary?"

Vincavec grinned. "That is the question now, isn't it?"

"I wonder what the people here use to build their homes." Talut paused before going on. "I think we need to get more answers from our two experts."

"Yes, and we should think back more on how we used to build our summer camps. Those were usually just temporary structures, but we could just build them a little stronger. A little nicer."

Talut smiled as he watched Vincavec reminiscing. He had a lot of fond memories from his own summer camps of the past. Where the Lion camp was located, they often stayed put in the summers, other than to travel to wherever the summer meeting was located. But they had gone north to hunt mammoth on more than a few occasions. They usually did build temporary structures then, much like Talut had experienced as a young boy.

Not a bad idea, Talut thought to himself, lighter structures wouldn't take as long to build either. Different ways of building started going through his mind, from heavier structures to lighter ones, each technique had it own overall pros and cons.

**********

The huts were now sharply in focus, it took several tries for the Mog-ur to find a memory that was strong enough to 'see' this much detail. Built mostly from cane that was tied together and used for the walls, about every eighth or ninth pole was considerably thicker than the rest. The thicker poles were the only ones that had been planted firmly into the ground, the thinner ones stopped as they reached the ground.

How extraordinary, Mog-ur thought to himself. Other than putting up a tent, the Mog-ur had no real, practical experience in building any type of structure. The Clan had always been cave dwellers, and their history was for them to search out the often elusive natural shelters. Finding an adequate cave near enough to good hunting and gathering lands was a real challenge, always. Mog-ur thought about the intricate structures that his friends the Mamutoi had fashioned. He had often studied the odd dwellings during his stay there. Mog-ur sharpened his focus again, delving deeper within himself.

The conically shaped roofs were also built out of the canes, he observed, though these were even thinner than the smaller of the wall canes. The roof was covered by what looked to be palm leaves of some kind, tied by the stalks to the framework. There was no smoke hole.

In his mind, the Mog-ur backed away from the small hut. The picture that slowly developed was interesting as well. A hut for every finger of one hand was built in a small semi circle around a large pit fire in the center of the formation. The entire camp was constructed in the shade between two large, tall trees. The camp had obviously been abandon for a time, no living souls to be seen anywhere, nor were there other signs of the humans that had once been here.

Mog-ur took a deep breath as he allowed the memory to fade. He began the slow process of looking for another memory to explore. A soft breeze cooled the sweat on his brow.

A sudden rustling in the grass off to his left brought him out of his deep meditation. A small, tingling sensation washed over him as he realized he hadn't even brought his spear with him. The light sheen of sweat on his brow felt suddenly cold and clammy.

Mog-ur turned his head to the left, so slowly that it was hard to see. A drop of sweat rolled into his left eye, blurring his vision as the salty drop burned. He caught a small bit of movement, and watched as his vision cleared the tall grass begin to wave oddly between three bushes and a short, wide spread palm.

A predominately white birds head popped up, with a distinctly black top and long, light grey neck. More movement, more heads popped up. All the heads lowered out of sight at the same time.

The soft rustling became a little louder as more guineas than the Mog-ur could easily count rushed through the clearing between the three bushes and a patch of taller grass further to the southeast. Mog-ur's eyes twinkled as he watched them scamper away, the sweat on his brow no longer felt quite so clammy.

**********

Danug and Rug snuck up around the short stand of brush at the edge of the narrow clearing to the near edge of the creek. Troog and Thorec followed close behind them, all had spears at the ready and extras in scabbards slung across their backs.

Rug slowed and straightened up a little, just enough to see over the top of the bush. There, movement again, he thought as his adrenalin surged. He stared into the deeply shaded brush, and saw a pair of dark colored, wide spread antlers move slightly. At first he thought they were branches, but now he clinched his jaw in the excitement of the possible, unplanned hunt.

With a small hand gesture, Rug beckoned Danug to watch with him. Danug grinned as he straightened his back and followed Rug's dark eyes out into the dark patch of shade. Danug was just focusing in on the movement when the beautiful deer like creature raised his head to chew a mouthful of green grass, Danug grinned broadly.

None of the men were in the new camouflaged hunting clothes, they were really just out exploring. Lightly dressed in the new, more common fashion of short leggings and foot covers only, the color of their light brown skin blended well into some of their surroundings. Though only out to explore the creek and the outlying lands northeast of the camp, being in unfamiliar areas meant keeping up a constant vigil. Hunters were hunters, however, and when Rug spotted the movement in the shadows of the large tree just up from the bank of the creek, his excitement and instincts took over.

Rug turned to sign back to Troog and Thorec, who both nodded and flared out behind the second bush to Rug's right side. They stayed low and quiet, and moved with the surety of the experienced hunters that they were.

In the dark of the shade, the face of the buck looked to be a medium brown, with strips of much lighter areas strategically surrounding his eyes. His dark nose was circled with the lighter color as well as the undersides of his ears. This was one handsome creature whose pair of single, nearly black antlers swooped skyward in a gentle, rippling arc that separated and flowed gracefully away from the buck's head. He had a thick neck, and another odd light colored band ran all the way around it at the base of his head. With the brush partially obstructing him, it was impossible to tell just how big he was, but he did look to be good size, rather large, in fact.

The grazer dropped his head to get another bite of the tender new shoots of short grass. As soon as his head was out of sight, the hunters moved again. They communicated with hand signals which were an odd, but efficient mixture of Clan signs and general hunting motions. Thorec veered in between a pair of squat, wide bushes, while Troog went past him and circled in around the shade tree in a wide arc. Danug moved off to Rug's left, almost crawling to stay out of sight of the feeding animal. Rug watched as the hunters got into position, one at a time, blending into the surroundings so well that he lost sight of Troog all together.

Rug waited patiently as the handsome animal chewed another mouthful of grass, admiring the beast. When he lowered his head again, Rug made a slow arc over his head with his favorite spear, then crept forward. When the deer raised his head, Rug and his hunters all froze until he lowered it again. Following the steady movement of the animal feeding, they positioned themselves incrementally. It was a slow, tedious process, one they were so well schooled in that it came to them as natural as breathing.

The antlers appeared first, rising up into sight, and Rug let fly his spear. Just as the deer's head rose up into view, the spear struck him at the base of his neck at an angle from the trajectory of the throw. The impact of the heavy spear knocked him to the right a full step as it slammed home, and Thorec's spear sailed by his face, just missing. The buck gathered himself up with a loud snort and bounded through the brush, running in an awkward, erratic gate, favoring his left side. He bounded clear of the heavy bush, right at Danug.

Danug stood up and let go a powerful cast, his strong body twisting with the refined effort as the buck did his best to cut to his right. The buck tried to avoid the human, but the spear caught him full in the ribs, just behind his front leg. The snapping ribs broke the quiet with a sickening crunch, and the big buck staggered again. His front left leg kicking at the ground by itself, not following the rhythm of his other three legs.

Troog jumped out from his hiding place and with a fast, two step approach, he hurled his spear with all the power that the strong man of the Clan could muster. The spear flew true and hit the deer at the base of his neck, and sheared his spine as it penetrated deeply, protruding out the other side the width of a man's hand. The deer spun around with the impact, and crashed to the ground in a heap, its rear legs still churning.

Rug was on him quickly, his second spear raised for the thrust that would finish off the pretty buck. He sent the spirit of the deer back to Ursus mercifully with a single stab, and then knelt down to cut his throat full across as the large body of the deer stilled. The other three hunters surrounded him, admiring the beauty of the majestic animal.

**********

Talut hopped down onto the flat, grey rock landing nimbly despite his huge bulk. He winced at a sudden pain in his hip. Ever since he had been hit with a spear from the Eastern Savages long ago, it would remind him of the old injury from time to time. Talut just grinned, only the living feel pain, he thought to himself, remembering some of Old Mamut's many wise teachings.

The rock was down the side of the cliff a little farther than Talut was tall, and was half again as wide. Vincavec and Draag were already down at the far end of the rock, peering over the edge of it further on down the cliff. The three of them all studied the cliff side, looking for the easiest way down to the flats below from their differing vantage points. The terraces of rock jutting out from the steep cliff drop off actually made for a decent, but zig-zagging way down.

In his mind, Talut was already looking for ways to level the terraces with walking paths. Some digging here, some adding of material there. It was all looking good, and so very possible. So far, the initial step down off the cliff posed the biggest challenge, he thought as he peered out past the edge of the rock. The sheer drops between the terraces were a bit intimidating, but a few of the flat rock formations were angled down that would make traversing the cliff a little easier.

It will take a lot of work, but this project is as important as building shelters, he thought, considering the needs of this oversized camp he belonged to. As hard as it was to believe, the fresh meat that the band of young hunters had supplied two days ago was already depleted. Talut grinned at the thought of needing to hunt more often than he had ever had to in the past, and wondered again about storing meat. There was no permafrost here, or so it seemed, and this presented a rather unique problem. How to store meat, he pondered it all again, still to no avail.

"Talut," Vincavec called out, garnering Talut's attention. "Come look at this."

Talut picked his way down a short, steep drop off, slick with gravel. He reached out to push a small bush out of his way that grew out of a narrow crack in the solid rock wall to his left. The next flat was narrower than the one before, and was angled steeply for a little way before leveling out as it widened where Vincavec and Draag stood. Both men stared down the cliff side at the edge of yet another terrace end, Draag was pointing at something farther down below them.

Vincavec was smiling when Talut sided up between them, and put his hand up on Talut's wide shoulder. Talut peered over the edge, and grinned.

Down below, a dark grey rock terrace, just wide enough for two men to walk on side by side angled gently down the cliff. It cut a clear path three quarters of the way down the steep incline. The angle of descent looked to be gentle enough to walk down pretty easily, but it was a sheer drop down to it that looked to be almost twice Talut's height right below them.

Just another challenge, Talut thought to himself as his mind churned, hunting for fresh ideas to access this prime path. He shifted his gaze down to the flats, marveling at the rich abundance of game. Herds upon herds of potential meals grazed peacefully below in the grass amidst the ever present predators. Black and brown and tan, the colors of the herds stood out from the greens and light colors of the flats. What a rich land, he thought, then dropped his eyes back down to the drop off before him. Now, how to best get down there, he mused.

Draag pointed to a swiftly moving band of striped horses as they ran along the length of a black herd of buffalo. A spotted cheetah loped casually along behind them, not close enough to present a threat, but close enough to give them enough reason to move on.

Talut smiled at the sight, wondering who the cheetah was really after.


	33. Chapter 24 Part 2

**Chapter Twenty Four**

_A New Home_

**Part Two**

The waterbuck, as Wymez had identified it, was even tastier than it was beautiful. The meat was richly marbled with long striations of fat that sizzled pleasantly on the spit.

Rug claimed the beautiful hide for Etra, to her surprised delight. As he had cast the first telling spear, it was between he and Danug who were credited with the kill, with assists from the other two, of course. Etra would have to work the pretty hide herself, but it was the thought that mattered. Rug was a very considerate mate, even though he had his constant, often time consuming responsibilities as Clan leader.

As tender as the front shoulders of the waterbuck was, Talut longed for the haunch that cooked slowly in the new pit oven. He had gorged himself on the tasty meat off the spit, and had drained three bowls of the succulent stew, but the subtle smells that escaped the ground oven were almost too much for him to bear. What a first meal that will make, he thought sipping a fresh cup of tea next to Nezzie. Talut reached over to caress Manut's fuzzy head, the boy reached up and grabbed his finger and squeezed it strongly as he nursed. His happy smile was distorted by a mouthful of Nezzie's nipple. The fuzz on Manut's head was already turning a bright shade of red, even brighter than Talut's own hair.

Talut glanced to his other side at Latie who held Bralut on her lap. Bralut had a rib bone with a little bit of meat still clinging to it clenched in his hand, and sucked and gnawed on the entire length of it. Bralut's hair was growing in fast now, and the light, reddish blonde color was virtually identical to Latie's. Bralut grinned at his mother with a lop sided mouthful of rib, Latie smiled back, tickling his ribs softly.

**********

The circle of hunters was quiet in the flickering firelight of the main fire. They surrounded Brug and Rug, with Mortan and Druwez flanking Brug closely. Wymez and Rymar sat on either side of the Mog-ur and Frebec, all of them watching intently. Across from them, a huge gather of hunters did the same.

Rug held the carved stick across his lap while Brug nimbly fit the thin length of vine through the notches carved at the ends of the long stick. Rug held tension on the stick, pulling the ends in as Brug fit the loop of vine securely into the opposite side notch. Rug let off the tension slowly, his huge biceps rippling with the controlled power he commanded with ease.

Brug sat back as Rug slowly let the stick go. It held, the stick stayed bent under the pressure of the vine into a gentle curve. Rug picked it up gingerly, and handed it to Brug.

Running his fingers softly up the smoothness of the carved stick, Brug was glad to find no tell tale splintering. He used his thumb to pluck the taught vine, and a soft, deep pitched sound resonated. Brug cocked his head in wonder, and plucked it again.

Smiles spread all through the hunters of the Others, and a slightly unnerved look developed from usually emotionless faces of the men of the Clan. All except for the Mog-ur who cocked his head much as Brug had done, and looked to be suddenly deep in concentration. From somewhere deep within his mind, this odd sound triggered a memory fragment, one that the Mog-ur promised himself he would examine further at a later time.

Brug stood up, holding the bow reverently in his left hand. He closed his eyes and thought back to everything he had seen with the dark skinned hunters, and pulled the bow up and out in front of him. He adjusted his grip with his left hand on the smooth stick, about in the center, and wrapped his fingers lightly over the taught , thin vine.

The entire camp was suddenly absolutely quiet, the soft pops and crackles of the fire were the only sounds. Everyone in the camp was watching as Brug pulled on the vine. The vine moved easily at first, then the tension built as the stick fought to stay straight. As Brug's elbow bent, pulling harder and harder the vine snapped loudly, popping Brug across the face leaving a bright red whelp.

Brug's eyes opened wide as he felt the carved bow quivering in his left hand, and he reached up to touch his cheek where the vine had whipped across his face. He looked at Rug, and made the grimace that the Others made when they were happy. Rug's dark brown eyes glistened in return, as Mortan laughed aloud nervously.

Slowly, as the silence of the moment was broken, more hesitant chuckles joined Mortan's. Soon, the entire camp was laughing as they surrounded Brug and Rug. The hunters clapped Brug on the back and the mood lightened even more when he chuckled himself with his deep, guttural laugh.

Brug handed the carved bow back to Rug, who pulled the broken vine off the notch at the end of the stick. He examined it carefully before handing it out to Frebec.

Frebec made a Clan sign to Brug. 'Next time, vine stronger.'

Brug nodded, running a finger gently over the whelp on his cheek. 'Stronger, yes. We keep trying, we will learn.' Brug's signs were brimming with confidence as Rug handed him the bow back.

Mog-ur glanced at Rug and the two men shared a deep, knowing look between them. Both had the same thought, that Brug was wise beyond his years, and had more patience than one his age normally possessed. Both men were proud of the young hunter, but neither were very surprised. Brug had not had a normal Clan childhood, he had grown up fast following the tragic calamity that this Clan had gone through. He had learned to hunt, mostly on his own, at such an early age. Though still young, Brug acted more like a man than could reasonably be expected of him.

Rug was sure that one day Brug would eventually be the hunt leader for this entire large, mixed Clan. The very thought of this gave him a deeper sense of pride than he ever could have imagined. Rug was sorry that Aba, Brug's mother, would not get to see Brug finish growing up. He hoped that she watched over her son from the spirit world, somehow, he was sure that she did.

**********

"...I think they are both important, why can't we do both at the same time?" Talut asked, grinning as usual. In his mind, there was little that this large camp could not do if they all pitched in to take it on together.

"I guess we could, we do have enough available hands." Danug answered, pondering the overall concept of taking on two major projects at the same time. "If we split up into two groups we could probably make good, steady progress on both projects at the same time."

It was really unheard of, for one camp to take on more than one major endeavor simultaneously, and both men considered the ramifications silently for a while. They had been considering Talut's bold idea for most of the second watch, and though it was still a little while before dawn, the discussion never wavered. Dissecting the many pros and cons, there were many things to be worked out before they were willing to put it before for the whole camp.

"If we put the responsibility of feeding the camp onto Brug and his hunters, there is no doubt they can keep us in fresh meat. We could give the chore of gathering roots and greens to Inca, she can find plenty of food if she had a little help." Talut went on, some of his ideas he was tossing out were no more than him thinking aloud. He was hearing most of this for the first time just as Danug was. This was not something Talut would normally do in a gather of leaders, but with it being only he and Danug, it felt alright to have a completely open discussion like this.

"Brug can keep us fed I'm sure, he and his hunters are about the best I've ever seen. If we gave them the responsibility to hunt for the entire camp I think Brug would be sure they would succeed." Danug said rubbing the stubble on the bottom of his chin as he spoke.

"And you are right about Inca too, she is about as adept at finding food as anyone I've ever seen."

"We can let Inca pick her own helpers, but who should we assign to protect them?" Talut asked, really getting into the conversation, exploring the possibilities in earnest.

"I don't know, but I think we should have at least one adult with Brug and his crew too." Danug considered his next words for a moment before he went on.

"We will need Branag's help and experience too much on the building projects to leave him with the hunters, but as good as they are they will need help to haul back their kills. That could easily be too much for them to handle by themselves."

Talut considered what Danug said, seeing the wisdom of his trepidation. The boys would indeed need help, and it would be best if a couple of adults, experienced adults was with them full time. Danug was right about Inca needing protection too, this whole idea was complicated, and getting more so all the time.

**********

Rug watched Brug's chest rise and fall with the steady rhythm of sleep. Though Brug would never admit to being tired, and would probably be embarrassed when he woke up, the boy needed his rest. It had been a long last few days for him, Rug thought, with all the work he had been involved in.

Brug handled himself as well as any adult, Rug thought, he worked hard and then took guard duty at least every other day. The two of them had taken the second watch, and Brug had worked on finishing up three of the new, small spears that they would try to make work with the new bow. The last of which was still in his hand, and a small piece of sandstone in the other. Brug's head was leaned over onto his shoulder as the boy reclined against the log, dozing.

Rug kept vigil by himself as Brug slept, his ears taking in every sound of the night from the woods beyond and his eyes constantly sweeping the perimeter for movement of any kind. He knew that Brug would be quick enough to help should he need him, and so Rug let him sleep.

An owl hooted softly in the distance, and as Rug slowly made another slow scan around, he heard a soft rustling from the leaves to his left. The sound was short lived, and far enough away to present him with no real concern. Rug kept his attention sharp as the crescent moon shone above him in a glimmering sea of stars. The fire was burning down, and he would need to stoke it back up soon, but there was no real hurry.

The soft, subdued sounds of an owls wings passing by overhead made Rug look hard into the dark sky. He caught the briefest glimpse of the owl carrying a fat rat in its talons as it flew back toward the woods.

The owl Rug heard earlier in the woods hooted again, eerily in the distance.

Brug snored on softly.

**********

Talut put his ideas out for general discussion when enough of the other leaders had gathered around the fire for their morning tea. The talk started off slow, but as the sun came up grew more and more animated as the total scope of it all became better understood. It attracted more and more participants as people got up and around. With all the people involved, many of the more difficult aspects of the overall plan were smoothed out incrementally as the conversation wore on.

Inca and Nezzie nearly brought the ongoing discussion to a halt when they removed the stone covers from the ground oven and the slow cooked haunch of the waterbuck permeated the entire camp with its delectable smells. It was all Talut could do to stay where he was, his stomach growled so loud those on the seating log next to him heard it and teased him about it. He didn't care, he was hungry, but he stayed where he was as the talk continued.

When Brug was offered the responsibility of feeding the camp, he was almost overwhelmed. Almost. His heart pounded as he accepted the challenge, his deep brown eyes glistening with excitement and pride. This was a dream job for him, and there was nothing he could think of that he would rather do. The confidence that this huge camp had with the abilities of he and his hunting partners was the most satisfying feeling that Brug had ever experienced. Ever. Brug knew without asking that his two hunting partners would feel the same way. They did, as their excited looks gave them away.

The only real concern was who would be added to this overly proficient crew of hunters. Talut and Danug took turns as they explained to Brug that the added meat they would be required to procure would take extra hands to help bring it all home. Brug understood quickly seeing the wisdom of having older, more experienced hunters join them. It took a bit for him to realize that Talut proposed for him to be in charge though. Brug suddenly felt a little intimidated when he figured out that he would be calling all the shots, he would be the hunt leader with adults in his hunting party.

Branag came to the rescue, when he volunteered to be one of Brug's hunters, explaining that he had no problem taking direction from such a successful hunter. Talut let Branag go on for a while, allowing the rest of the adults to soak in his reasoning before telling Branag that he would be needed more elsewhere. By this time, even the men of the Clan were volunteering to be a part of Brug's band.

The Mog-ur sat back and watched all this play out. He was impressed with the way Talut handled it all, making it an important honor to be a part of Brug's hunters. By the time Talut, Danug, and Branag finished, it would actually be an increase of status for any of the adults hunters to be a part of this most important crew. The fact that it would be led by such a young hunter was no longer perceived to be important.

Talut is a good leader, patient and wise, Mog-ur thought as he understood all the subtle nuances of what he had just accomplished. He took the conflicting egos out of the equation completely, and would effectively have more volunteers than they would ever need now. Mog-ur also appreciated how Rug was the second man to volunteer, even though Rug knew he couldn't be part of Brug's band. The Clan leader had too many other responsibilities that required his constant presence, and he knew that, he was just taking down any last barriers that might have prevented other hunters from being willing to participate.

Rug has become one of the best Clan leaders I have ever seen, Mog-ur thought to himself. He reflected back on all the wise decisions and choices the young leader had made throughout this arduous part of this Clan's history. From the life changing decision to join up with these unusual people of the Others, all the way through leading them on this journey into the unknown. Rug had proven himself to be versatile in ways that other Clan leaders usually were steadfast and uncompromising. Mog-ur was more than satisfied with Rug as Clan leader, he was capable and strong willed, but compassionate and wise enough to listen to council.

If I could have made a better choice of one to lead us, Mog-ur mused with a deep sense of satisfaction, I don't know who it could have been. The conversation continued, and Mog-ur watched Tornec's crude signs of translation with renewed interest.

In the end, Troog and Salen were given the honor of joining Brug and his hunters. Troog made it overly clear that he looked forward to hunting under Brug's leadership, and Salen did the same. The pride Brug felt showed only in his eyes, but it was there for all to see.

The discussion then shifted to the sizable chore of continually gathering enough food stuffs to supply the camp. When Talut asked Inca if she would be in charge of this arduous task, Mog-ur was again proud, proud of the reaction Inca gave after a small prolonged moment of embarrassment. The woman glanced over to Etra for her approval who gave it with a slight nod of her head, then Inca squared her shoulders and looked up to Talut and met his gaze.

Inca was a little intimidated by this public vote of confidence, but she was sure enough of her abilities and knowledge of edible plant stuffs to take the job without the fear of failure. When she answered Talut, she accepted the job with a simple, confident nod of her head and holding his eyes with her own before lowering her head with deference.

Talut nodded his head solemnly, then asked who she would like to assist her when she looked back up at him. The Mog-ur watched with amusement as Inca lowered her head again, this time deep in thought before she answered.

Inca's usually timid voice was a little stronger and had the edge of pride in it as she began naming off her choice of helpers. "Sil-vee, Bre-cie, Ma-mee."

The three women she named all smiled, they were all experienced gatherers and enjoyed the task. Frebec volunteered his services as their guard, and Crisavec volunteered his help as well, and Frebec smiled with satisfaction. All were happy.

Nezzie offered herself as the designated 'keeper of the children', if, she added, Rugie would help her. Rugie brought smiles of pride and amusement all over the gather when she agreed with a mature voice that belied her nine years. Marcie quickly added herself into the mix, offering to assist them as their were so many children to look after.

The conversation shifted, and the daunting tasks of building their homes and making a path down the side of the cliff began in earnest.

Draag, uncharacteristically, offered to lead the effort in the shaping of the cliff path. Usually quiet and reserved, even for a man of the Clan, he was assertive and positive as he signed.

'I will make path down to flats, will need three strong men to help.' He looked Talut in the eye directly as he signed. 'This can be done, hard work, but possible.'

Mog-ur glowed inside, this was more, much more than he had ever anticipated. The placing of his Clan in such key positions of importance was almost overwhelming. These clever, hard working people of the Others obviously accepted the Clan as an integral part of this huge camp. Status was defined differently with these people, he thought, but none of them had never really treated anyone of the Clan with anything but respect and honor.

Talut smiled at Draag, he nodded his head and signed as he spoke at the same time. "Who will help Draag..." He grinned as he finished his question. "...and me build this path down to the flats."

Laughter erupted throughout the camp at Talut's quick show of humor. The serious nature of the general mood of the large meeting broke down at the quick stab of levity. A few cat calls rang out, mostly at Talut's expense. He laughed along with them, encouraging them to pile on.

Everyone was caught by surprise when Ranec, of all people volunteered to help on the cliff. When the shock subsided, Danug added himself to the chore of building the path. Talut grinned, glad to have Danug's exceptional body strength added to his own. The task of clearing the path would no doubt be onerous at best.

When the moment finally subsided, the discussion moved on to the final topic. In the end, Vincavec and Rug were placed in charge of the building of the new structures. Vincavec and Rug both agreed, but asked for Mog-ur and Wymez to act as consultants and assist them. Branag was charged with the burdensome task of procuring building materials, and took it in stride as he nodded his agreement.

When he asked what all he needed to look for, the discussion turned again. The type of structures to be built was now opened, and the ideas came from all directions. This would be one of the longest, most detailed conversations that had ever taken place within this group of mix matched people. It took a while to dissect all the differing construction techniques, and how they applied to their current situation.

Wymez and the Mog-ur were questioned endlessly of their combined knowledge of everything from the weather patterns to what was normally built as home structures. Tornec was worn out from the constant effort of keeping up with his running translations as the day wore on.

Nezzie and Inca supplied them all a well needed respite, serving the incredibly delicious, slow cooked waterbuck. Talut was sure that it was the best tasting meat he had tasted in years, absolutely positive. He wasn't alone with these thoughts, the meat was as tender as young mammoth, slow cooked to delectable perfection.

**********

Wymez chipped away at the new axe head, the large stone was not quite what he wished for as far as the overall quality was concerned, but it would do. A hard whack with his hammer stone sent an angled wafer of flint across his leg and hit Brenan square in the chest just as he hit the stone in his own lap. The chip of flint flew and landed in Branag's lap, glancing off the chalky stone he was working.

The three men chuckled, and Druwez looked up from the stone in his lap to see what was so funny. The three men and Druwez had all been at it for a little while. Four roughly shaped axe heads lay on the ground between them, all needed final work on the edges, but the basic shapes were complete.

Brenan picked up the wafer from his lap, and held it up to examine it.

"I'll save this for shaving." He said then looked at Wymez. "I could use one more if you want to send one my way."

Wymez chuckled, but Branag laughed aloud. Druwez grinned, then turned his attention back to the chalky stone in his lap. The sounds of chipping began again. The construction would require a lot of axes, small and large, and the stone workers needed to lay in a good supply. There would no doubt be a lot of tools broken along the way, and there was no such thing as any camp having too many tools.

**********

Frebec pulled the tight loop of vine over the bent bow while Brug held tension on it. They had deepened the notches on the ends of the bow to accept and hold the slightly thicker vine, and though tight, it looked to be enough. Brug's arms rippled from the strain of pulling the bow with enough tension to give Frebec enough slack to work with. With a little pop, Frebec pulled the loop into place. Brug relaxed the tension slowly, hoping the vine would hold, it did.

Rug took the bow from Brug as he stood up. He felt the tension, it was tight, really tight. He handed it back to Brug. A small circle of men surrounded them at a discreet distance. All watched with great interest.

Brug positioned the bow in his hands, and pulled on the vine. The ends of the bow flexed uniformly, Brug pulled harder. The bow stood up to the pressure as Brug pulled it as far as he could reach. He let the pressure go slowly, then pulled on the thin vine again. When he approached the far ends of his reach, the hard wood snapped, breaking off a hands width from the bottom edge.

Brug dropped his head, flustered at the amount of work that just went away with the loud pop. The vast disappointment he felt was evident. Rug stood up beside him, putting his hand on his shoulder while he signed with his other hand.

'What have we learned this time?'

Brug looked up into the Clan leader's dark eyes. The frustration he felt ebbing slightly at the calmness of the leader's gaze. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to analyze the failure. After a long pause, he signed.

'Stick needs to be more flexible?'

Rug nodded his head, then signed again. 'What else?'

Brug wrinkled his brow in thought before he answered.

'One must be patient when making new kind of weapon.'

Rug nodded his head solemnly, proud of the wisdom Brug showed. He knew how hard Brug had worked on this broken bow, and how easy it would be to just give up on the whole idea. It made him proud that Brug wasn't giving up, Brug was diligent if nothing else.

The men watching all saw the grim determination on Brug's face. Even though this attempt was a failure, they all knew it wouldn't be the last. Each man put his mind into all the potential ways of changing the shape, the material, the design. There were obviously a lot of things to be considered.

'Correct, patience is very necessary.' Rug signed. 'We must learn from our mistakes, this weapon may well be worth the effort.'

Brug understood, he thought back to how long it had taken him to learn to use the throwing spears of the Others. It had been the most difficult thing he had ever tried, but he had mastered it. If he could master the throwing spear, he could master the bow. Brug nodded at Rug, then handed the Clan leader the broken bow.

'Will try again.' Brug signed as he turned to walk away.

Rug watched him go, then studied the broken end of the finely carved stick. He wondered what Brug would do different next time. It doesn't really matter, he thought, because Brug will try again. Rug thought about the different species of wood they had so far encountered as they had built the raft and the various other chores that required wood. The different properties and varying hardness of each different tree posed numerous possibilities, each would have to be ascertained and experimented with individually.

Brug will succeed, Rug thought to himself as he watched the young man walk away with a determined posture. He will face this challenge and conquer it, of this, if nothing else, Rug was sure.

**********

The deep pitched crack rang out as Branag jumped back away from the tall tree. Slowly at first, the trunk leaned over more and more as loud pops sounded out in the crisp, early morning air. Branag stood back and watched, the thick trunk separated neatly near the thick base with a bang, and the tree fell, crunching branches as it settled on the ground, quivering.

The other three stood still until the tree settled, then Stolie and Jozen both moved in to begin the arduous task of stripping the tree of all its outer limbs. Ludeg turned back to the tree he was working on, and continued chopping into the deep cleft he had already established. Branag sauntered over to join Ludeg, his heavy axe feeling light in his hands again from the deep sense of accomplishment of the downed tree. Ludeg chipped away, wood flakes flying.

Branag looked around, there were six, maybe seven more trees that looked to be about the right size left to harvest here. It was a nice stand of the softwood trees with the interesting shaped leaves. The sounds of Stolie's laughter rang out as Jozen struggled to pull a large, leaf covered limb with an abundance of off shoot branches out away from the trunk of the tree from a sitting position. His face was red, but whether it was from the embarrassment from falling or from the exertion of strain it was hard to tell. Probably a little of both, Branag thought as he hefted his axe, waiting for Ludeg to stand back and let him help.

Stolie giggled some more as she leaned over to offer Jozen a helping hand. Jozen pulled her down onto him with a jerk. Wrapping his strong arms around his mate with playful affection. He kissed her, trying to drown out her laughing, after a while it worked.

The steady rhythm of Ludeg's chopping began to slow ever so slightly, and Branag turned back to get ready. Ludeg swung his axe a final time and stepped back away from the tree, wiping his sweaty brow with the back of his hand. Branag grinned, and set his feet soundly, and swung his axe.

**********

Vincavec and Tulie supervised moving the tents. They had cleared the ground in two places at the edge of the shade of the wide arc of trees, and would set the tents up at the outer edges across from each other. This would leave adequate room to start construction on the main lodge, which would be in the center, most favorable position in the new camp.

Wymez and Frebec ran string lines of thin vine from the corner posts that Tathan and Barzec hammered into the ground. Crisavec stood a little behind Barzec, keeping the thin vine free of tangles as they stretched it out before tying it off. The corner posts were marked by Rymar and Rug, who carefully paced out the distance to the fourth, and last post position.

Thorec and Regan used a tool fashioned from a split limbs tied onto thinner poles to scrape the ground within the boundaries of the posts. Tressie and Latie removed rocks and stones that the ground scraper uncovered, tossing them into an ever growing pile to the south side of the stretched vine.

Jaycie and Matera worked on a small, low fence of thin limbs and branches under a wide spread shade tree. The ground here was covered with short, soft grass. It was to be an enclosure for the smaller children and babies. There were so many of them it would be a great help to keep up with them all while the rest of the camp was such a bustle of activity.

Nezzie brought over three heavy bison skins to cover the near edge inside the enclosure. She dropped them outside the near wall, and went back after more.

Matera meticulously twisted some of the smaller, flexible twigs into a rough weave. It held the limbs together well, and she moved down the line a little to start again.

Etra and Ova pulled hard on the skin of the fat suidae. A bright yellow layer of fat appeared, covering the pink meat as the hide pulled free. Ooga reached in and deftly made a careful slice as the hide hung up around the left rear leg. Ova held pressure on the hide and watched the young girl worked to cut it off around the base of where the leg met up with the haunch.

They worked on the surface of a wide, flat rock on the eastern end of the camp. It was a nice, easy to clean work surface.

Fralie struggled to drag the other fat pig up to where the three of them worked. Salen had returned to the camp just after first light with a suidae dangling over each side of his shoulder. He had dropped them off, and returned to the hunters.

Tessie brought over a water skin and poured it over the carcass when Ooga stepped back, finished with the chore of cutting the hide from around the right leg. She poured a thin stream of water over the center of the pig, washing the blood off the meat and thick layer of fat.

Ova pulled a small, sharp knife from a scabbard on her belt and leaned forward to begin slicing the narrow back strap muscle free.

**********

Draag pointed to a narrow mound of grass covered turf that stuck out about halfway up the steep incline. He made a motion with his hand, pantomiming a slicing motion and signed with simple words.

'Cut top off, and pile dirt and rock there.'

Talut grinned, that was exactly what he thought, too. He nodded his agreement and pulled the thick, pointed stick at his side up and used it as a walking stick to climb up to the small bump in the cliff side.

They stood on the narrow ledge of the first terrace, the first chore was to connect this terrace to the edge of the cliff. It was the first step of what promised to be a real challenge. Connecting the thin bands of terraces that would eventually all be a part of a single trail down to the flats, far below. The first drop off was a little higher than Talut was tall, and it would be the first obstacle to be overcome. Hopping off the edge of the cliff down to this narrow terrace was more than a little unnerving.

Talut couldn't quite get a good enough footing to stab into the top of the mound, so he started off jabbing into the dirt a little below knee high up in front of him. Draag sided up to him, and stretched a rolled aurochs hide out onto the thin rock path. When Talut paused from stabbing the dirt, Draag reached up and pulled the loose dirt away and piled it onto the hide.

Danug and Ranec walked the length terrace, gathering up flat stones they dug out of the ground of the incline. Some only had to be pulled free from the occasional sheer cliff of solid rock. The sides of the cliff varied between the two, sometimes dirt, sometimes long expanses of bare rock. They carried the stones back up to where Draag and Talut worked.

When the first carved step was judged to be wide enough, Talut and Draag pulled the mound of dirt away by dragging the aurochs hide. Ranec placed the first flat stone onto the dirt step, mashing it into the broken sod at the far edge. It took three more stones to complete the step, and Danug used his body weight to set them firmly into the dark colored dirt.

Ranec used three more stones to line the front of the step, sitting back and using the strength of his legs to seat them into the dark dirt. When he positioned the last rock and set it firmly, he stood up and stepped back out of the way.

Draag hopped up onto the new step, favoring his leg slightly, and reached back and took Talut's digging stick from him. He mentally measured up the proper height and went to work, stabbing the stout pole into the thinly grass covered sod.

**********

Brenan walked gingerly over to the steaming stew skin. The aromas were maddening, not that he was particularly hungry, but oh, those succulent smells. He limped heavily, keeping most of his weight on his right leg. The constant ache of the injured muscle of his left leg turned into deep stabs of pain whenever he put too much weight on it.

Ooga was busy slicing up thick strips of meat from the suidae, she worked between two wide pelvic bone platters. Brenan noticed she was having a little trouble, her knife was doing as much tearing as it was cutting. He pulled the smaller of the two knives he kept in matched scabbards on his belt and handed it out to the young girl. She handed over her knife and took Brenan's with shining eyes. Brenan's knife was exceptionally sharp, and Ooga had no trouble cutting the meat into neatly shaped strips.

At least I can contribute something, Brenan thought as he hobbled over to a seating log near the main fire. The flint chips littered the area where he sat, and Brenan picked up a flat anvil stone that Wymez and company had left behind from their tool making session of the night before. He pulled his flint working tool pouch off his belt, and rummaged through it until he found the particular bone punch he wanted.

Brenan took a deep breath, concentrating on the small knife. He cleared his mind, enjoying the task and challenge of retouching the sharp edge. The enjoyment of working the stone was something he had always savored, and as unable to do much of anything else as he was lately, it was more satisfying than it usually was.

**********

Salen caught up with the rest of the hunters just on the other side of the creek. He had followed the trail markers that Troog had left for him along the way. Salen gathered the small strips of light red pieces of leather he came across tied to small tree branches and bush twigs as he went. He was surprised that the hunters hadn't gone farther than they had since he had carried the two suidae back to camp earlier. When he waded through the shallow waters of the creek and caught up with them, he knew why they were still so close to where he had left them earlier.

The four of them had a small crocodile surrounded. Small only if compared to the others that had been killed previously, it was still longer than Druwez was tall. They had driven it out of the water of the creek and up onto dry land, and had him trapped and circled in a patch of short grass. The croc lurched at Brug who tried to get to the side of him, his small axe held high and ready to strike if a good target presented itself.

Druwez had his spear poised, and jabbed at the croc's tail, trying to get him to turn his attention away from Brug. Troog and Mortan flanked the armored lizard from the other side, spears out like lances, ready to poke or stab the crocodile if it tried another mad dash. The croc had already tried to get free of them and back to the creek twice, but the stabbing spears had driven him back both times, leaving a few small wounds as evidence of his efforts.

Salen took up a position to the left side of Brug, getting a firm grip on his spear at the butt and setting his feet firmly. Brug took another side step, and the croc twisted quickly and flailed his spiny tail at him, missing him narrowly as Brug hopped back, just out of reach.

Druwez stabbed at the croc and hit him just behind the left front leg. The tail swished back at him, sending a small rock flying as the croc snapped at Druwez. Druwez hopped back, leaving a small puncture wound in the croc when he pulled his spear free.

Mortan stabbed at the croc, his spear tip failing to penetrate the armored back, breaking off the flint point with a dry snap. The croc spun, snapping again with its long mouthful of sharp teeth.

Brug saw his chance, and stepped forward and swung the light axe with incredible force. It caught the croc just behind the small mounds that were set just above his eyes, and the flint axe head popped loudly as it bit into the heavy armor plate. The crocodile writhed at the impact, and Brug brought the axe head back quickly and lifted it again.

Druwez narrowly escaped the spine covered tail as it swept at him again, and the croc snapped at Mortan driving him back a step. Brug swung his axe again, connecting in almost exactly the same place as he had hit him before,. This time the axe head shattered on impact, but the center of the flint held together and penetrated the hard skull of the animal deeply.

The crocodile went into a vicious death rattle, swinging his tail and snapping his massive jaws shut over and over with no real apparent target. Brug hopped back, leaving the broken axe imbedded in the croc's head. He pulled a spear from the quiver strapped across his back as all five men backed up to let the animal die.

**********

Vincavec drove the pole down again, this time it shuddered when it hit a rock. The reverberations from the hard strike stung his hands through the pole. He tossed it aside and dropped to his knees. Vincavec pulled out a few hand fulls of dirt, then found the rock. He started digging around it with his hands, it was another big one, he thought as he tried to find the ends of it. It wasn't the first rock he had encountered, and this hole wasn't even as deep as his forearm yet.

Across from Vincavec, Barzec slammed his own pole into the dark dirt. He had just finished removing a rock of his own, but his hole was deep. In fact, Barzec could barely reach the bottom now, and the last time he had pulled out the loose, dank smelling dirt he was at the end of his reach. Tornec stood beside him, and volunteered to clear the hole for him.

Barzec pulled his pole out of the hole, and took a step back as the taller, longer armed man dropped down to fish out the loose dirt. Sweat ran into Barzec's eyes, and he pulled a small square of leather from the belt on his waist and wiped his face with it. It came away wet, and smeared with dark dirt.

Vincavec tugged on the rock, and felt it move. He took a deep breath and pulled harder.

**********

Branag led the small procession back to camp. Dragging the heavy, long logs was more than a simple chore. Too heavy to carry, they each held the end of the logs under their arms and dragged them along with the ends trailing behind them. Branag was impressed all over again at Stolie. Though more slender in build than a typical Mamutoi woman, she was unusually strong. The young mate of Jozen had little trouble keeping up with the rest of them, and the log she pulled was just as big around as the ones the men labored with, though ever so slightly shorter.

The crew had left another four logs down, but yet to be completely trimmed. Hungry, they decided to make one load back to camp to grab a bite to eat before finishing up the next set of logs.

Branag followed his nose, something was cooking and smelling awfully good and his stomach rumbled every time he caught a soft whiff of it on the breeze.

**********

Tulie and Nezzie were both surprised at the progress that the cliff carvers had already made when they took them food and fresh water. The first thing they saw was Ranec's upper half standing off the edge of the drop off. The grin they got from the dark skinned carver made them all laugh.

"It's a good thing you brought food, Talut was getting ready to jump off the cliff and chase down something to eat down in the flats!" Ranec said with a chuckle as Talut climbed up onto the step beside him.

Talut popped Ranec on the shoulder, but smiled as he hopped up the sheer side of the cliff and pulled himself over the edge with his massive arms.

"I thought you had forgotten us." He boomed, waiting for them to reach him.

Both women carried baskets, and Talut had no trouble smelling the roasted suidae even though his face was smeared with dark, strong smelling dirt. He walked toward them, and Nezzie laughed at her filthy mate, his whole body was smeared with the dark colored dirt, and he reminded her vaguely of the striped horses that she thought were so pretty. Somehow though, Talut didn't look as majestic as the horses did, she thought with a chuckle. He just looked dirty, really dirty. As Talut got closer, Nezzie giggled again as she scrunched her nose. He smelled bad, really bad.

Ranec climbed over the edge, and Danug gave Draag a boost to help the shorter man over the steep rise. The men all surrounded the two women, first passing around a water bag that Tulie offered. Talut ignored the water, snatching a food basket away from Nezzie as he nuzzled her cheek.

"You smell like a pig in rut." She said, giggling at her mate's awkward attempt to steal the food basket.

"I'll be in rut as soon as I eat, all right." Talut said as he sat down and opened the basket between his knees.

"Not until you wash you don't." Nezzie said, still giggling like a young girl.

Talut couldn't answer, he already had a mouthful of the succulent pig. Ranec reached down into the basket, and Talut slapped his hand away playfully. When he spoke, it was with a bulging mouthful.

"Get your own basket, this one's mine."

**********

The shadows of the trees reached out with long swatches of cool shade as the sun slowly started its downhill slide toward the horizon. The clear waters of the creek flowed by in a slow, gurgling dance, distorting the pebbles of the bottom pleasantly.

The area birds seemed to really come alive late in the afternoons, upping their activity levels in the constant search for food. Radically varied in color, shapes, and sizes, their differing songs covered the land with the music of the woods. Some of their calls were eerie sounding, and others had a tendency to more toward a screech. The colors of these feathered singers ran the full gamut, from the drab browns and tans to the brilliant multicolored panoramas of flying rainbows.

Talut stood guard at the bank of the creek with a huge axe in his hands while a number of people bathed in the shallow, cool water. Scanning the banks and the clear waters constantly, he watched for anything out of the usual, those crocodiles were just too quick and mean to ignore. He smelled so bad he could hardly stand himself. When Danug finally walked over dripping with his bright red hair all squeaky clean from his bath to relieve him it took Talut no time at all to immerse himself.

Deegie replenished a wide platter with more crushed soap root, dipping her cupped hand in the creek to add just the right amount of water to take full advantage of the foaming cleanser. In no time, the platter held a tall mound of the heavy suds.

Talut used more than his fair share of the foamy solution to wash the sweat and grime from his huge, sweaty body. His red hair absolutely glistened when he finished rinsing out the foam in the cool waters, even more so with accents of the thin streaks of grey that striped his thick, wavy hair.

It had been a long, hard day for the entire camp. Though used to working hard, the constant heat of this place was something that was hard for these usually cold dwelling people to get used to. Even throughout their extensive journey, they had not experienced this kind of long periods of consistent, perpetual periods of hot weather.

**********

Etra had a tired, hungry bunch to feed as the sun went down, and tonight she and her crew absolutely excelled. She had Ova and Ooga handling the spit, and Fralie and Tessie tending the stew. The smells emanating from the two sources of cooking food brought the camp in tight, mouths watering and patience beginning to wane

Inca had gone out with her gatherers this morning and the heavy baskets of bounty they returned with was incredible. Small reddish brown tubers, fat mushrooms, cabbage, cat tail shoots, finger length carrots, bulbous yellow and white onions with deep green stems, and five large clumps of green bananas. Much of it had been chopped up and added to the stew which had a base of suidae flank, richly marbled with striations of fat. As good as the heavy hanging skin of stew was, it would be even better tomorrow as the flavors blended and the stew thickened.

Every seat available on the logs surrounding the main fire were occupied, and loose groups sat on hides stretched out on the ground between them. Children were scampering about all over the place, and every baby was happily at the breast except for those whose mothers were cooking. Because of this, more than a few women had a baby on each breast.

To add to the enticing expectations, when the wide rock covers of the ground oven were removed, the steaming aromas rapidly spread out on the soft breeze. Etra had put a haunch of suidae and a sizeable piece of crocodile tail in to slow cook in the ground oven, topped with a layer of spiced bananas. The combined smells were absolutely torturous to the tired and hungry group.

Talut and Danug looked like they were in immediate danger of starving to death before platters were dished up. They were not alone, even Rug and Draag looked overly anxious as their stomachs growled in anticipation.

Mog-ur watched the women work, their efficiency was rather impressive as they finally began to fill platters. Little Ooga began to pass out the platters piled high with food as Rugie carried out bowls of stew right behind her. The time it took for the young girls to distribute the food only added to the agony.

It was well worth the wait though, and the camp grew slowly quiet as chattering mouths were filled with the incredible variety of succulent dishes.

**********

Talut sat back on the log, an empty platter and bowl in his wide lap, he burped loudly. He quizzed Inca and her gatherers at length on what all they had seen and come across, at first his underlying reasons for the questions went without notice. It seemed at first like he was merely interested in the lay of the land, measuring the available food sources at their disposal. By the time he was in his fifth or sixth round of queries though, it became rather obvious that he had a purpose to his specific questions. Talut was hoping they had seen evidence of certain particular grains that Talut normally used to make his famous bouza.

Inca was not aware of the specific, necessary ingredients that went into the slow brewed alcoholic drink, but her helpers spoke up and offered to keep an eye out for them. Mamie was very knowledgeable about edible grains, as was Silvie. Both were renowned gatherers of their previous home camps, and knew exactly what all Talut was really after.

Vincavec kept in with the spirit of the conversation, adding his own wish list for certain fruits and berries to make wine with. Deegie added her own requests, being an accomplished wine maker herself.

In the end, Inca agreed to supply these odd requests if, and only if, the land continued to supply such rich bounty as they had incurred today. With what all she had seen in their single, half day venture out, she was rather sure that this camp would stay well supplied with fresh vegetables. Inca had not taxed her knowledge or her memories at all today, and still they had harvested only the very best of the available vegetables that they had located. It was indeed a very rich land.

The central discussions over after dinner tea varied, mostly centered around distinct potential problems or different immediate or future needs that had to be addressed. It was a long ongoing conversation.

"...the dirt is only cool a full arms length down, not really cold at all." Tornec was saying in response to Tulie's queries about some kind of cold storage facility.

"It might get colder if we dig deeper, but with what all I've seen here with this 'always summer' like weather I wouldn't wager my favorite tunic on it." Vincavec added, grinning.

"We may not have the ability to store things for any real length of time." Vincavec grinned directly at Brug who sat carving on a new bow near the fire. "It's a good thing our hunters are so efficient."

Mortan and Druwez both grinned at the compliment, Brug just kept on working, concentrating on what he was doing as he usually did. Druwez held the other end of the bow, running a scraper down the back side slowly, a thin ribbon of wood following the sharp flint tool. With both of them working on the piece of wood at the same time, the progress they made was astounding.

"We are going to need more flint." Wymez said at a small break in the conversation. "As hard as Branag and his folks are on axe heads, we tool makers are going to stay pretty busy keeping up."

"I broke a spear point today." Mortan said, a twinge of embarrassment in his voice.

Wymez just grinned at the young hunter. He would make several replacement spear tips for them all, he thought, with the work load they faced this would probably be a common occurrence.

Brenan saw the needs of the hunters as well, and decided that he would get busy and start making them all some new spears. With his limited abilities still due to his injured leg, this was something that he could help with. Because Brug and two of his fellow hunters were still smaller than the adults in stature, they couldn't really use the full size spears of the adult men, theirs had to be a little smaller. I'll get the necessary sizes, he thought to himself, and get busy on this in the morning.

"I know where to get some flint." Thorec said. "I'll get it for you tomorrow, how much do you want?"

"A lot." Wymez answered.

"I'll help then." Salen offered, knowing how heavy raw stone was and figured that he knew how far Thorec was going to have to go to get it. So far, they had only found flint in two places, and one of them was on the wrong side of the crocodile infested river.

"We need to talk about what we are going to use to make the walls and roofs of the structures out of." Branag said, looking to Vincavec and Wymez.

"That's a good question." Vincavec said, and sat back without continuing.

A long, uncomfortable silence hung over the camp. A softly crying baby near the west tent and the popping and snapping of the fire were about the only sounds.

"Vinc-vec." Mog-ur's deep, guttural voice caught them all of guard. 'I have searched the memories, I can tell you how some of the people here make their homes.'

Wymez sat back, more than willing to allow the Mog-ur to begin. He knew how involved questioning from this bunch could be, and began to think back to his own experiences here from so long ago. There was a wide variety of construction methods used here, and Wymez wondered which combination of these would be best. There were a lot of things to consider, a lot of methods to choose from.

More than a few grins greeted Tornec's translations. Ooga clung tighter to the Mog-ur's scarred chest as he began to sign again.

**********

Morning brought a return to the hustle and bustle of the many ongoing projects. The leftover skin of stew got a good working over as people grabbed a quick first meal then split up and scattered in all directions.

Branag led his group back into the woods. Draag and his men headed back to the cliff. Thorec and Salen went out in search of flint. Inca and her gatherers left with empty baskets. Brug and his hunters were long gone, having left well before the sun rose.

The four corner posts of the new central lodge were set, and Vincavec and Rymar measured off equal distances between them to start digging new holes to set in further supports. From their measured marks, another eight poles would have to be set.

Though the construction methods discussed from the night before were still inconclusive, the basic structure of the walls had been figured out. At least for now, as the walls went up there would no doubt be further modifications and changes to be made as the needs became more obvious.

Tulie led a crew of five out in search of cane, if the walls were to be made primarily of this, it would require a lot of it. They went first in the direction of the pond where a large supply of cane was growing. From there, if more was needed as was highly probable, it would have to be searched out and located elsewhere.

**********

All throughout the morning, clouds rolled in. Somewhat scattered at first, by mid morning the sky was covered and the air was heavy with the smells of impending rain.

The breeze from the southeast turned until it blew almost directly from the east, as it changed direction, it began to gust strongly. The clouds grew darker and more ominous looking, thunder heads towering ever higher and higher. Lightning and thunder began long before the first raindrops fell.

Once it started, it grew steadily in strength and intensity until it became a complete deluge.

**********

The camp filled up rapidly as the rain intensified. Almost everyone out in the work crews came back early, it was just too difficult to get much done in the incrementally worsening conditions.

Branag and his crew dragged in two more long logs, Tulie and her helpers brought in three huge bundles of long cane poles. Inca led her group in with two more bulging baskets of tasty goods.

Even the hunters returned early, but they did bring in a pair of long, curving antlered impala, as Wymez called them. Lithe, thinly muscled animals that resembled antelope by their streamlined build, they were caught by surprise at the creek. It was raining lightly at the time, and the well camouflaged hunters had little trouble getting close with the added ground noises. Wymez assured them that the impala were as tasty as they were beautiful, Troog couldn't wait to see it for himself.

Everyone except Draag and his cliff carvers, that is. With the work they had to do, the rain softened the hard packed dirt on the cliff sides and made it easier to make substantial progress. Digging was easier, as was prying and pulling stones from the mud, they took full advantage of the changing conditions. Footing became much more perilous in the mud and on the rain slick rock, but they pressed on.

The tents provided the only real shelter, but there were several places under the sweeping arc of the canopy of trees that stayed relatively dry. A few lean-tos were set up with the hides of aurochs and bison to create shelters under the canopy of the protective tree cover.

The main fire and the three perimeter fires were all stoked up and burning hot, smoke billowing off them all as the steady downpour tried in vain to extinguish them. This would be a constant challenge, allowing any of the fires to burn out now would make it virtually impossible to get them going again. With all the unknowns, this possibility was unacceptable. Nightly guards watching over the camp was an accepted way of life, not to be taken lightly.

Many stripped down and washed in the steady rain, and most of the people that stayed outside didn't bother with clothes at all. The coolness of the wet day was a pleasant diversion from the stifling heat. A lot of people took full advantage of it, as well as the pleasant diversion of getting a break from the massive amount of chores they all faced.

One thing that became obvious with the rain was that where they were the ground saturated quickly. Dark mud seeped up through the thin grass and before long the entire area was a muddy mess. Where the main lodge was being built, the ground was pure mud now, and getting worse as the rain continued.

Vincavec and Rymar walked the perimeter of the new lodge, seeing the growing problem up close. It wasn't a pretty sight.

"Well, we can either build up the floors with paving stones or dig a ditch around the entire back side of the structure." Rymar thought aloud.

"Or put up a short wall around the entire east side." Vincavec said, adding his thoughts as he watched the rivulets of water running through the posts from the slight rise of the ground.

The gentle slope of the ground as it backed up to the arc of trees and the woods on beyond was much more noticeable with the increasing rains. More would have to be done to insure that the structure would stay dry, and this would probably have to be done for the future structures as well. It was a lot to consider.

Draag brought his tired, mud covered workers back into camp late in the afternoon. Weary, but all of them were in good spirits. They had accomplished a lot despite the rains, and now the first steps off the cliff were done. The sense of accomplishment fueled their good mood, as did the smell of the stew.

The evening meal was eaten from the cover of the various shelters, the tents and the lean-tos were crowded with people. The stew was even better this time around, and the crocodile meat from the ground oven added to it substantially, the meat so tender it almost melted in their mouths with even having to chew it.

**********

Guards were set, and Brug and Druwez both volunteered for first watch duties. Rug and Ludeg took the first watch as well, knowing that most of the responsibilities of actually watching over the camp would be up to them. Brug and Druwez were just too intent on shaping their new bow to be counted on completely. Rug didn't mind though, he rather liked the fact that Brug was so diligent in developing this new weapon that had such potential. Besides, he thought to himself as he watched the young men settle in under the lean-to near the western most fire, there really wasn't too much danger on a night like this. At least he hoped this was the case, it usually was elsewhere, but this was the Land of the Sun.

Rug decided he would be more observant than usual, between him and Ludeg, they would be safe enough, he reasoned. Ludeg was an exceptional guard with his long experience in the wilds, besides, there was no sense in taking undue chances.

**********

The rains continued for three more days.


	34. Chapter 25 Part1

**Chapter Twenty Five**

_**Rocks, Mud, and Rainbows**_

**Part One**

Brenan was tired of the rain. This was the fourth day in a row that it had come down without a break, and everything in the camp was damp at the very least, and completely soaked in most cases. It was a constant, steady shower, and the ground had long since been completely saturated. He sat with Thorec and Tathan in the relatively dry area under a hide covered lean-to at the southwest perimeter fire, working on developing a new tool on the damp paving stones.

The cane poles that Tulie and her crew had brought in varied in diameter rather dramatically, and the larger ones had proved to be overly difficult to use. Gathered up and cut to length to make walls out of, the different sizes presented numerous problems and the original idea of the preferred method of construction had to be abandon.

Tathan and Thorec had come up with an possible alternate method of how to construct the walls, and Brenan had been sold on it. Listening to what they had in mind, he had come up with an idea for a specialized tool to make it all possible. The three of them sat down and talked out the difficult specifics of the new tool, and began building it, working out the kinks as they did.

So far, they had split a short log and scraped it flat on one side. Tathan was busy cutting two deep gouges close together in the center of the flat, while Thorec and Brenan chipped away on pair of flint wedges that were sharp and thin on one side.

The small fire popped and sputtered, putting off a tremendous amount of smoke as the rain continually tried its best to extinguish it.

**********

The main lodge was no more than a series of poles planted deeply into the earth at measured intervals. A pair of horizontal cane poles were tied to the support poles. One about halfway up and the other just short of the top, both wrapping all the way around the sizable structure with only a single break in the center pole at the future doorway. Three men worked on a last row of horizontal poles about ankle high above the steadily growing rock ledge.

A short rock wall was being constructed three to four rocks high all along the back side of the sparse structure, when complete, it would run all the way around the building except for the narrow entrance passage. This helped to divert the run off of water from the gentle slope, and when finished should keep the floor of the lodge from being further saturated.

The building of the wall was dirty, hard work and well over a dozen people were involved. Some gathering and toting rock, others out cutting grass, and a few more mixing the black mud with the cut grass to make a heavy mixture used to seat the stones of the wall with. The rest stacked rocks.

All work had been temporarily shifted back to the campsite. Forced by immediate necessity, they build wide paths of flat rock with narrow breaks in it for small drainage channels to allow mud free movement throughout the area. They placed paving stones all around the central fire pit, and well beyond in all directions.

A pair of wide, slanted lean-tos were fashioned from cane poles and aurochs hides and erected to partially shield the main fire from two directions. Several others gave relief from the rain in other areas where the normal daily chores were performed. Two were set up to shield the largest three seating logs, another covered the food prep area, and both perimeter fires had a lean-to shielding the stacks of firewood and a semi-dry place to work.

Both tents were severely water logged now and extra support poles had to be added hold up the sagging skins. Water seeped through in several places where the skins were stitched together and the ground was getting harder and harder to keep dry inside. A short rock wall was set up to divert the run off on the high side, but still some got through.

Brug and his hunters were the only ones excused from the work at the camp, and as usual they had left well before the sun came up. So far, they had not returned empty handed yet, though some days they didn't returned until late in the afternoon.

Nude and nearly nude people were everywhere. Adding to the paved areas, working on the short lodge and tent walls, gathering more rocks, carving out small drainage troughs, it was a busy, bustling place.

The rain fell steadily.

**********

Brenan pressed the thin wedge of flint into the deep gouge of the flat side of the piece of log. It was tight, and he had a hard time fitting it into the groove with the sharp edge sticking out. He had already nicked his hand twice setting the first blade, and the deep red blood made dark splotches as it soaked into the light brown wood. With a final push, the wedge seated.

"Good job." Thorec said as Brenan sat back, examining his hands for any fresh wounds. He was pleasantly surprised to find none.

There were two wedges of flint side by side about three finger widths apart, sticking up from the flat at angles. They were similar in size and in the angle in which they stuck up out from the smooth, flat surface of the split log.

"Care to give it a try?" Tathan asked, holding up a small piece of off fall from a cane pole as big around as his forearm.

Brenan grinned, and nodded to Thorec who took the cane and set the log tool onto the stone floor in front of him. Thorec rolled the pole over in his hands a couple of times, then got a secure grip on it and set the end of the pole against the two sharp pieces of flint. He set the pole flat down on the smooth surface of the log and pressed forward.

The cane pushed up against the flint blades slightly, then settled back down as the blades sheared through the thin walls of the cane. Thorec pressed on, splitting the cane cleanly. When he got to the end, he pushed it through, leaving a wide strip of gently curved cane lying on the log. Thorec handed the neatly cut strip to Brenan.

"Wow." Tathan said.

"It works, how about that?" Brenan muttered with satisfaction, his soft voice.

Thorec took the cane and set it back down in front of the blades again, this time measuring out an approximate distance to his left that was about the same width as the sliced piece. He pushed the cane through again, coming away with two more strips, neatly cut. With one more push, the cane pole was now five nearly equal size strips.

"Let's try it on a full size pole." Brenan said, smiling broadly as he pressed a small square of skin against the deeper nick in the side of his hand.

"You got it." Tathan said, hopping up to fetch some of the cut poles from the huge piles near the lodge.

**********

Tulie and Latie worked together on the woven mat of split cane. They would get a small section done, then stop to press it all tightly together. One thing they noticed was that the split ribbons of cane flexed well when wet, even as the mat itself stiffened. The natural curve to each strip flattened under the tightness of the weave as they pressed it hard and close enough together that no sizable gaps were left to be seen. The mat was growing quickly, and Thorec had already trimmed the jagged edge on one side back into a straight line.

Brenan and Tathan ripped more cane on the new stripping tool, and had a good size pile already stacked up. They found it easier to have four hands instead of two to hold the long poles straight as they pushed them through, Brenan held on close to the cutting blades, while Tathan pushed from the rear. The tool worked exceptionally well.

Vincavec brought over two thin cane poles. One was cut to the length of the height of the walls of the lodge, while the other was cut to the width between the support poles. When he laid the height pole over the ever growing mat, he smiled to find that the first one was over halfway tall enough already. The width wasn't quite as close, but at the speed the women worked, it wouldn't be much longer.

As the mat grew, it got increasingly stiff. Vincavec was impressed at how much structure it would add when tied securely onto the outer poles. This stuff was stout.

Matera and Regan wandered over to see this new technique that was being talked about all over the camp. Both women were renowned basket makers, and after watching and listening to newly revised techniques and methods for a little bit, decided to help. It wasn't long before there were two growing mats.

Brenan and Tathan sped up their efforts as the pile of strips began to diminish. Vincavec noticed how low the pile of poles they were pulling from had gotten, and went off to bring over another load.

**********

The walls of the lodge were completed in three days, though hard to see it while they worked, the constant rain actually helped. With everything wet and saturated, the cane mats stayed flexible enough to be placed around the support poles and tied together and to the heavy vertical poles. The ease in which the soft mud was mixed and handled allowed the short rock wall to be completed in short order as well.

It was difficult handling the heavy woven mats, and it took a lot of strong hands to position and hold them while they were secured. Narrow strips of thin walled cane were meticulously cut and used as the main method of tying everything off, the small diameter vines had a tendency to stretch too much when this saturated.

Talut, Danag, and Branag cut thick cane poles to length and used them as additional structure between the vertical support poles imbedded deeply in the ground. Stretching across the width of the lodge up at the top of the walls, they out ran past the vertical poles a hands width, and were secured with multiple wrappings of stripped cane. A couple of the horizontal support poles had to be pushed back to plumb, pulled outward with the weight of the woven matting. Once the cross members were secured, the support poles stayed straight.

The last of the paving stones were being fit together, now the whole floor of the lodge was covered with the exception of two small fire pits. These had been placed in the center of the width of the lodge, at equal distances from each far wall.

Vincavec and Rymar worked on designing and building an entrance door. It was thought that flaps of hide like they were used to using in the past would be too susceptible to rot with the frequency of rain and heavy humidity of this new land. Thus far, Frebec and Barzec, assisted by Crisavec of course, had built a small, rectangular frame of cane poles twice the diameter of Frebec's thumb. Barzec used a Clan styled flint knife to cut more cane poles to length, creating a small triangle at each corner of the rectangular frame. Cutting the poles at this odd angle was time consuming, but when set in place and wrapped tight the tall frame stiffened accordingly.

Latie and Matera used thin strips of cane to weave a cover for the frame, this mat would be much lighter than the ones they made for the walls. The thin walled, smaller diameter cane was light, but proved to be quite strong when woven tightly.

Brenan and Wymez tried to figure out a way to secure the door to the opening in such a way that it would open and close. This proved to be a real challenge.

The roof proved to be the one component of the lodge that left them baffled. So far, no construction technique had been figured out. Several small groups worked on small projects, building miniature versions of their ideas, nothing fruitful had yet been developed.

On the thirteenth day, the rain finally ceased and left a stifling, thick humidity in its place.

**********

"That just might work." Talut said with an excited edge to his always optimistic voice.

"We make the triangles on the ground, and then lift them up to the walls and secure them to the cross braces." Frebec said, explaining his idea in greater detail this odd idea. He manipulated the small twigs he had fashioned in a long triangle with two sticks running parallel at the shorter base.

"We hook the space between these sticks over the support poles, the tie them loosely. Then, after we have two of them secured, we can lift them up and let them meet at the center over the lodge." He grinned as he continued, pulling three of the miniature triangles together at a point.

"Then we tie them together at the top where they overlap and the basic frame should be secured."

"And, if we leave a gap at the highest point, we have a smoke hole already in place." Talut added with an infectious smile of his own.

Every man in the small circle smiled as they pondered this extraordinary idea. They all looked for flaws in the technique, but the more they all thought about it the better it sounded.

"This sounds good for the ends, but what about the long span between the end triangles?" Danug asked, his brow furrowed in thought. That is a long way for the small canes to have to go and still hold up whatever we use for a skin."

It got quiet for a moment, then Wymez broke the silence picking up one of the extra miniature triangles.

"Why couldn't we add two more triangles between the ends for support. We could hold them apart with cross braces before we tie them together with horizontal canes that run from end to end."

Frebec was the first to grasp Wymez' idea, and in his mind the last piece of the puzzle fell into place. That would work, he thought as he constructed the complicated roof in his mind.

Starting slowly, an all new discussion gathered speed as the idea was examined, added to, and dissected in exhausting detail. In the end, a plan developed and the men scattered to gather more cane and to begin work with what they had.

**********

Draag stood on the top of the ledge, gazing at the next flat terrace below. This would be one of the most difficult parts of the trail down the side of the cliff, it was a steep, sheer drop. He thought about the best way to bridge the tall gap, there was no easy answer.

If we stack rocks to make a stairway, he considered, it will have to stretch out for a long way. Too long, the terrace below is just too narrow, and the path needs to turn back to the other direction where the slant is more easily passable anyway. We might make a way down with wood, this would take less space, his thoughts continued. The Others are good at this, making things from wood, this may be possible. Draag continued his musings, solving this part of the path was important, until they got past this obstacle, nothing else mattered.

Down below in the flats, the herds moved about in almost slow motion, at least it seemed from this far away. Draag had a hard time concentrating from the lingering thoughts of being able to hunt down there. It was such a distraction, there were so many animals. So many meals. The hunter in him so wanted to get down there.

**********

Brug led his hunters back into camp, a huge waterbuck hung between the carrying poles. Though he was growing accustomed to the persistent praise of the camp, it still gave him a huge sense of satisfaction at the welcome they always received when they returned.

This buck was even bigger than the first they had killed, and it took all five hunters to carry the heavy beast. They all dripped with sweat, the humidity was absolutely stifling. When they dropped him off at the designated cleaning and butchering area, all five of them breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

Inca and Brecie hurried over with a small basket full of knives, platters, and other tools. Ooga followed, her favorite, freshly sharpened knife in her hand.

Troog and Salen stayed to help, the heavy animal would be hard to manipulate and need to be rolled over and flipped a few times before the hide could be salvaged. Troog stared at the pair of long, gracefully curved horns. There has to be something, some kind of weapon that could be made with them, he thought as he admired the handsome animal.

**********

Both ends of the lodge had the odd looking triangles jutting up into the air. It was a strange, but appealing sight of growing progress.

Placing them had been rather easy, using long poles tied to the center of the structural components they were pushed up into place from below. Tying them together had proved to be much more difficult. Tressie had been recruited to tie the tall triangles together, she was one of the tallest women—and the lightest by far for her height.

She stood on Talut and Danug's shoulders, each man holding on tight to her legs to support her. Even on top of the two tall men, she could barely reach high enough to tie the ends together. Doing all this by herself was hard, especially since she was constantly wavering while trying to keep her balance on top of the two men.

When she finished, Danug and Talut tied off the bases of the triangles to the main support poles and the cross members. Everything stiffened up nicely.

The next structural triangles were tied together on the inside of the lodge. The components were all cut to size and had been test fitted outside the lodge, but when assembled was much too wide to fit through the narrow doorway.

Talut and Danug hefted the first triangle of tied together cane up and over the support poles from inside the lodge. It fit loosely, just within the width of the tall poles, and allowed for a lot of movement as they pointed the narrow end of the roof brace toward the center of the lodge. It stretched well over half way across the width of the paved floor.

Barzec and Frebec put the finishing touches on the next triangle, wrapping the cane strips tightly and tying them off. As soon as they were done, Talut and Danug lifted it up and into place, next to the first.

A loop of vine was tied onto the ends of both pieces at the narrow ends, and two long cane poles were slipped through the loops and slid between the two triangles. This tied the tops of the two triangles together loosely. The outer ends of these poles were tied to thin push poles, and two more push poles were secured to the tops of the triangles.

When they used the push poles to lift the two triangles up into the air together, the structural pieces stayed even with each other with the aid of the slip poles. Once high enough, the slip poles were pulled outward and overlapped the two tall frameworks on the ends of the lodge. The slip poles held, and the structure stayed in place, though it sagged slightly in the center from the slack allowed by the slide poles.

Tressie was helped back up onto Talut and Danug, and they held her up while she tied the slip poles into place and added another, heavier pole when these were finished. She cut the push poles loose, and added another layer of strapping around the slip poles. By the time she got back down, half of the roof structure was secured.

Frebec and Barzec paused to watch the structure above taking shape. With satisfied grins, they picked up the next precut set of poles and went back to work to assemble the next piece.

**********

Talut held the large diameter log up, bracing it crosswise against his thighs as Danug and Draag crammed the ends of it into the gap between the upright supports on each side. The log had been split, with over two thirds of its original girth still remaining and the flat side pointed up.

With a grunt of effort, Draag seated his end, ramming it home between the upright posts. Ranec reached down and gave Danug a helping hand to get his end seated into the narrow space between the uprights. With the added muscle of the shove, the log was pressed into the tight space with a soft thud.

Talut took a deep breath and stepped back, glad to have the heavy weight of the log off his scraped up thighs. The log fit tightly into the narrow gap, and the flat side stayed true, pointing up evenly.

The odd looking structure was a series of steps made completely of cut and sized logs, most of them heavy logs. The uprights were tied together and cross braced, with solid upright supports holding them firmly in place between the main vertical poles. Each step up was almost knee high to Draag, and three logs deep from front to rear. This would make it a bit of a slow go for most of the men once the steps were completed because of the steepness. When finished, there would be a total of five step levels from the lower terrace to the upper. The bottom three steps were now all in place, three logs deep each.

The bottom of the uprights had thick poles tied to the bases from left to right, holding the span of width consistent. The narrow ledge was solid rock, there was no way to secure the structure by sinking the uprights, so it had to be free standing. Because of this, the structure had to be completely self sufficient and stand securely on its own. This presented the builders with a real challenge, and it was easier to overbuild than not.

After several long discussions about the different types and properties of the available trees for harvest, Draag had professed his preferences which were agreed to by unanimous consent. They used the hard, dark wood that had been so problematic to cut and shape for the upright portion of the structure, and the softer, more pliable wood for the steps themselves. The softer wood gave a better, more secure footing, especially when wet. These logs proved to be much easier to split as well, as they found out the hard way, breaking their best splitter in the first, and only, failed attempt to split the dark colored hardwood.

Branag and his crew of wood cutters had finally figured out how to cut down and harvest the hardwood trees, and the new axe heads from Wymez and his flint workers didn't hurt. It seemed that the smaller, thinner hand held axes worked best, taking shorter, less powerful stokes. Patience proved to be the order of the day for the woodcutters, for the extra time it took to procure these valuable materials. The crew was set up on the upper terrace, chipping away, sizing the next pieces, with several large logs stacked up against the side of the cliff.

**********

Brug studied the new bow in the waning sunlight, it was a finely shaped and detailed weapon. It was just a little longer than Brug was tall. Mortan sat next to him and ran his fingers down the length of the flattened, curved stick. This one was made of the dark hardwood, and was a little darker in color than the last one had been. It was smooth to the touch and had an intricate, tight grain pattern that ran the length of it. The shape of this one had a long curve to it, and Brug couldn't decide if this was good or not, only time would tell.

It had started off straight, but bowed gradually as the wood was shaped and smoothed. Brenan had expressed his thoughts that the shape might well help more than hinder the performance and function of the bow, and Brug thought it worth a try. He did have a lot of hours invested in this one, and hoped that Brenan was right.

Druwez held out the length of thin vine with two loops tied at the ends. He had two more vines in his lap of varying thicknesses. A full quiver of small spear projectiles lay on the ground between him and Mortan.

Troog sat next to Salen watching, sipping a steaming cup of tea. He had not been this content in a long time, hunting every day with these young men had been a real pleasure. Never one to have an inner need to lead or take the initiative, Troog was happy to just be a hunter and provider, and with these hunters it was a very satisfying experience. There were no egos to stroke or pacify with this group, and Brug led them with staunch determination. The measure of success they enjoyed was astounding, and fun.

Though a bit awkward at first, the three young men worked together to bend the bow and get the vine attached to the notches at the ends. They stung it with the direction of the curve, and the vine held as tension was let off slowly. Brug thumped the vine, testing the strength, he felt the vibrations resonate all through the carved stick in gentle, rippling waves.

The five of them walked out to the eastern edge of the camp, through the shade of the huge trees to the small grass and brushy clearing beyond. Several people saw them and tagged along at a discreet distance, Frebec and Crisavec among them at the front.

Brug took a few practice pulls on the string, it didn't offer as much resistance as the first one had, but it held together and didn't break. He thought that this was potentially a good sign.

Mortan fished through the scabbard and offered him one of the small, shorter spears, and he took it and carefully fit the notch at the back of it over the vine, roughly at the center. Brug set the shaft of the arrow over the top of his knuckles where he held the bow in his fist, and slowly drew it back, the tension of the bow increasing as he did. He pointed it at a bush and pulled it back until the back of the arrow was at his shoulder and let go of the vine.

The arrow made an odd, twanging sound as it flew forward a couple of dozen steps and fell to the ground. Brug's eyes were wide, as were all those watching. It worked. Brug felt a stinging sensation on his left hand, and looked down to see a thin cut and a fat drop of blood on his knuckle where the arrow had rested. That's odd, he thought.

Mortan ran over and retrieved the arrow, looking it over. The back of it at the notch was split well up the shaft and one of the two feathers was missing. He frowned as he walked back over to Brug, already thinking of how to fix this new problem.

Troog noticed the small cut on Brug's hand, and stepped up to examine it. With a sign, he asked Brug to set up to shoot another arrow as Mortan returned. Brug held his hand out for the arrow, but Mortan fished a different one from the scabbard, this one was a little longer and the shaft a bit thicker.

Brug took it and notched it into the vine, then got everything in position to draw the vine back again. Troog made another sign, for Brug to go slow and he watched in detail how the set up was positioned. With how the arrow rested on Brug's hand, the stiff feathers would probably cut him again, he thought as observed the set up. With another sign, he asked Brug to let off the tension.

Mortan and Salen studied the split arrow. The vine had pushed through the notch at the back of it and one of the feathers tied to the shaft was gone. The other feather dangled with only the front side of it still attached. Salen squeezed the end of the small spear shaft back together, it still fit tightly under pressure.

"We can tie this back up with sinew, that will probably hold it together better." He said softly, thinking aloud.

"That should work." Mortan answered, seeing it in his mind.

Troog pulled a small piece of leather from a pouch on his belt, and placed it over Brug's hand, tucking the ends of the rough square between his knuckles. Brug scrunched his eyebrows for a moment in confusion, then gradually realized its purpose and nodded his head. Troog stepped back, and Brug pulled tension on the bow again.

All whispered conversation stopped in silent anticipation as they watched with rapt attention. Brug pulled the butt of the arrow back to his chest again, and sighted back on the fat bush. The twang of the release broke the quiet as the thin projectile flew away in a gradual arc, falling well short and to the left of the bush. This time the arrow stuck into the ground, the shaft wobbling as the point buried itself into the soft ground.

A soft rush of whispers began behind him, and Brug felt a rush of satisfaction coursing through him. Mortan patted him on the shoulder and grinned as he rushed out to retrieve the now still arrow. When he reached down to pull it out of the ground, he saw that the rear of the small spear was split just like the first one had been.

Troog had watched the flight of the arrow with great interest, he had mixed feelings about this whole idea. Any weapon was worth a serious look, Troog knew that for sure. But with the soft, weak looking flight of the small spear, he also knew that a lot of work would have to go into it before it could kill even a small animal. Brug will work it out if it can be developed at all, he thought with pride, knowing the unflappable nature of the young hunter. Troog saw the determination in Brug's strongly featured face, he was easily the most emotional man of the Clan that Troog had ever seen.

**********

Vincavec held onto the pole, half the width of his forearm, up at chest level while Frebec and Tulie tied each end of it to the upright framework. It was a small, square structure that was a little too wide to fit through the doorway of the lodge.

Frebec, with Crisavec's help, began laying more of the short poles diagonally across the upper cross members, eventually filling in the hole completely. Vincavec started threading a long, flexible vine over and under each pole, wrapping it around the horizontal supports to hold the pieces in place. Tulie did the same on the opposite side. In a little while, they had all the poles tied down.

"Cris, will you try it out first?" Vincavec asked his helpful boy, using the shortened version of his name as a term of endearment.

Crisavec smiled, a little nervously at first, then nodded. Tulie and Vincavec got on each side of the growing boy, while Vincavec held onto the structure to steady it. They grasped Crisavec by the thighs and lifted him up, and Crisavec leaned forward and pulled himself up onto the platform. The structure wobbled a little at first, but held his weight easily once he crawled into the center. Gingerly, Vincavec let go his grip. The platform held.

"Try standing up, but be careful." Vincavec said.

Crisavec used the tall, exposed upright to help keep his balance, and stood up slowly. His weight help to steady the structure, and it was actually pretty solid feeling for the most part. Tentatively, he bounced a few times to test the overall strength. It flexed a little under the shifting weight, but held together well.

"Can you reach the top of the roof?" Tulie asked.

Crisavec reached up with one hand, the poles of the roof were in easy reach, and he grabbed it at the peak and let go his other hand. He grinned down at them, everything was working out well.

"I can reach it all, this will work." Crisavec looked over the roofing triangles, and walked his hands down from the peak, he could easily reach over halfway down the length of the roof from where he was.

"Help me down?" He asked softly.

**********

With the aid of the raised platform, the roof mats were cut to fit and tied onto the structural triangles throughout the afternoon. The platform was proved stout enough to even hold two people at once, with two more holding onto the uprights from the ground for added support. The lower sections were accessible by putting Jaycie and Roxie on top of Tathan and Thorec's shoulders.

The roof mats were similar to the wall mats, but lighter being made from smaller cane poles. The weave was till tight, but the thinner walls of the smaller diameter cane cut the overall weight considerably. The pieces were cut to fit and tied together with each section overlapping the one next to it, and tied repeatedly to the structural poles. The mats were cut short to leave a hole at the peak of each triangle at the ends of the lodge for smoke to escape.

The bare poles of the triangles poked up and looked a little naked because of the surrounding matting, but Vincavec and Wymez were already brainstorming on a cover of some kind to divert rainwater. The bare structure would give them a great place to secure some kind of cover that would still allow smoke to escape, all they had to do was figure it all out.

The structure was filling out nicely, and the speed of it all was astounding. The only things left to figure out were the smoke hole covers and the entry door. It helped to have as many helping hands as were available, and the work ethic of these industrious people was amazing. A few more days and the exterior of the lodge would be complete.

Clouds rolled in as the evening meal was served. The soft rain began shortly thereafter.

**********

It was a cool, wet morning. The freshly dried and repaired tents were already smelling musty and beginning to sag on the tent poles. The drainage ditches and barriers all worked well enough this time around, though a few needed patching or clearing in a few places.

The roof mats on the lodge proved to be almost, but not quite waterproof. Small rivulets of rainwater seeped through in many places, but had a tendency to run on down the length of the slanted roof. At the cross members of the structure, the water gathered and fell dripping onto the rock floor. The smoke holes allowed the rain to fall in unobstructed, and the entire stone floors were soon wet and slick.

The rain was soft but steady, falling throughout the entire morning. It began tapering off some around midday, and by late afternoon finally broke up into sporadic showers. As the sun broke through, the air got thick and heavy. And hot.

Not a lot was accomplished this day on the construction of the lodge or on the steps on the side of the cliff, but they did get a couple of nice surprises.

Brug and his hunters returned with nine fat guineas and two hares, and the roof matting of the lodge tightened up.

The hunters used the sounds of falling rain and the softness of their footfalls to trail and take over half the flock of guineas with ease. The camouflage clothing rendered them almost invisible, and with the aid of the distorted sounds it was an overly easy hunt.

The waterlogged strips of cane swelled a little bit and slowed the leaks in most places, and stopped them all together in others. Well before dark, the succulent smells of roasting guinea tantalized the entire camp.

With the relaxed break from the last several busy days, the mood of the camp was light and all were well rested. The evening meal was served early and the air cooled considerably as the sun waned slowly. The muggy heat of the day behind them, it was a real pleasure to sit down to the smells that had teased them all afternoon.

There was more than enough to eat, as usual of late, though between Talut and Danug a sizable dent was put in the thick stew. A new, tangy auburn colored root Inca had discovered and tested over the last several days gave the stew a slightly different, but very pleasant flavor and aroma. From the way Talut and Danug kept going back for more, Inca worried that it might have some kind of addictive properties. If it did, she considered, the two men showed no adverse signs from it.

The men were already discussing plans for the next lodge over after dinner tea, and the women got involved as well to put in their thoughts and ideas. The talks covered a variety of aspects of the proposed structures, from the size most appropriate to the number of homes needed.

The very idea of family sized huts was a new concept to most of them, and Branag and Deegie got a lot of questions concerning the differences to be considered. Other members of the Aurochs Camp were drawn in as well, each giving their own reasoning as to the potential benefits and detriments of small lodges. Though they never got the chance to complete and actually convert the Aurochs Camp to this new idea of separate family homes, they had talked it all through and were well into the process of building their camp that way.

With the sheer number of people this large, mixed group of people encompassed, a single lodge wasn't practical anymore. It would probably have been impossible to build a single lodge big enough to house them all anyway.

Mog-ur sat quietly with little Ooga in his lap, considering this radical new way of living. The idea was fascinating, but ran so opposed to every teaching and tradition of the Clan that it was hard for him to grasp. It was even harder for him to accept. So very many things to consider, he thought as Ooga stroked his beard gently, such an odd way to live. Mog-ur reached up to scratch an itchy spot under his chin where sweat tended to gather, he was the only man in the entire camp left with a beard.

As the sun began to set, the biggest, brightest rainbow any of them had ever seen stretched all the way across the entire length of the sky. The sight was awe inspiring.

**********

Four men and Jaycie sat in the shade of the end tree of the wide arc at the east end of camp. They sat spread out on a narrow extension of paving stones that led to the eastern perimeter guard outpost set up just past the tree. It was a warm morning already, and extremely humid as the wet grounds gave up moisture in the building heat of the day. Low lying, thin clouds of mist hung just above the ground. The ground oven nearby allowed tantalizing aromas of slow cooking suidae to escape on the soft, erratic breezes.

Jaycie worked on a lightweight mat of thin stripped cane, two finger widths wide, weaving it tightly together in a long rectangle. Drops of sweat ran down her face from her hairline, and every time she reached up to wipe one away from her eyes, she glanced over at Wymez with sparkling eyes. Jaycie couldn't help but to wonder about the 'family group' arrangements discussed the night before, and if she and her two young ones would end up in a small hut with Wymez. Her heart beat a little faster at the thought, and she hoped Wymez felt the same way.

It would be a long time before any of these kinds of decisions would be necessary. A lot of huts had to be built and there was no telling how long this would take. Jaycie was pleased, though, she and Wymez had sort of set up a mini hearth together in the smaller of the two traveling tents. Her life seemed to get a little better every day, and Tonie and Tramen took to Wymez and his loving nature almost as if he had always been the man of their hearth. Though she would never forget Gralon, time gradually took the edge off the hurt of losing him.

Wymez held the thin cane poles tightly where they intersected while Brenan wrapped it with a thin strip of soaked cane. Over and under, he overlapped the strip into 'X' shapes six layers thick with each layer circling one of the two poles. When he finished the last wrap, Brenan used his knife to create a gap to pull the strip under two tight wraps of cane strip. He succeeded eventually and pulled it tight before cutting off the small piece of excess. It was the last corner, the other three having already been completed.

A small pile of precut cane poles lay on the paving stones nearby. More strips of the thinner cane used for the structural wrapping soaked in a wide pelvic bone platter next to it. An odd looking corner piece of three cane poles tied together, two at a right angle with the third spanning the ends to create a triangle was propped up against the platter.

Rymar had a thin, very sharp flint knife in his hand and he slowly and carefully carved on the end of a small section of pole. Thin ribbons of off fall curled over the knife blade as he slowly shaped the end into a semi-circle with small cuts, more curled pieces lay in his lap. He finished the last cut and studied it, pulling a few odd strands of cane away from the inside of the pole.

Satisfied, Rymar picked up the odd triangle piece and test fit the piece he had carved on into the corner. The radius ends slipped over the poles, fitting better on one side than the other. Rymar pulled it off the small frame, and went back to work, slicing a little deeper into one end, a little bit at a time.

Brenan set the corner of the door frame back down on the paving stones, the rectangular shaped poles wobbling and flexing. He looked over to Rymar, and waited patiently until he stopped and pulled the knife away from the end of the short pole. Brenan rubbed his sore thigh without thinking about it, the dull ache from sitting on the ground throbbed almost continually.

"Ready for the corner braces." Brenan said.

Rymar looked up from the carved end, and reached over to another, similar pole at the edge of the pile. He tossed it to Brenan with a grin.

Brenan handed it to Wymez, and reached into the bone platter to pullout a dripping strand of stripped cane. Brenan ran the long, curly strip between his fingers to push off the excess water.

Wymez lifted the frame up and slid it over his lap, then fitted the corned brace into place, pulling and tugging it into the correct position. It was a tight fit. He used a small piece of vine to measure the distance from the ends of the brace back to the corner, and adjusted the brace accordingly.

Brenan waited until Wymez was happy with the fit, then started wrapping one end of the corner brace with the wet strip. It was a bit clumsy at first, having to hold the end of it in place with his thumb until the wrapping held it secure. Over, under, and around he went, changing the direction of the wrap on each repetition. It was a slow, tedious process.

Wymez held the corner brace securely as Brenan worked. He looked up and caught Jaycie staring at him and smiled at her with love in his eyes.

**********

Vincavec and Tulie stepped off the distance from the corner of the nearly complete main lodge, counting their steps while walking to the west in the shade of the canopy of trees. At eight steps, they stopped and Vincavec stood still and looked back at the lodge. Tulie walked backwards a few steps, then stopped to judge the distance.

"Let's mark this with some stones, it looks about right." She said, her brow scrunched up in thought.

Vincavec stood still while she set a grey stone at his feet, then together they paced off the corners of the possible future hut about ten steps apart, setting marker stones as they went.

When the four corners were all in place, they stepped off a similar distance further to the west and started all over again.

**********

Branag and Ludeg had a log that had been cut to length each over their shoulders. A little bigger around than Branag's thigh, and almost as long as he was tall, they were cut from the heavy dark hardwood. The top step was solid enough feeling, but both men stepped gingerly as they made their way to the far edge. The steps were complete, but as solid as they were, the newness of the structure along with the steep drop off over the edge of the cliff made them nervous.

Talut and Draag stood on the center of the five steps, waiting. When Branag stopped, he knelt down and tilted the log down as he pulled it off his shoulder. Talut reached out and grabbed the end of the log, as Branag fed it down to him, stepping back slowly. Draag reached up as high as he could and grabbed the other end of it as Branag handed it off, and he followed Talut to the back edge of the step. They set it down, propped up next to one of the riser extensions that protruded up and turned to get the log from Ludeg.

Danug and Ranec waited at the bottom of the nearly complete structure of steps. When Talut and Ludeg turned to get the second log pulled the first one down to the flat of the terrace, they pulled it down together. They hefted the log between them and walked on down the narrow, slanted terrace to the next drop off. There were several logs already piled up at the edge, and they added this one to the pile.

Jozen held the thick wood wedge in his hand and used the back, flat section of the small axe to drive it into the top of the short log with short strokes. Stolie held the log steady , looking away from the wedge as Jozen hit it. She had already been hit with broken flakes of flint a few times, and the last one had hit her in the forehead. She didn't want to get hit in the face again if the axe splintered again.

The log groaned as it began to split with a series of pops and creaking sounds. Jozen stopped, and grabbed another wedge as Stolie laid the log down on its side. Jozen crammed the next wedge half a hands width away from the end of the log where the split stopped. He tapped it into the small gap with the axe, a little at a time while Stolie held it still. More cracking sounds, and the split opened up a little wider.

**********

Brug and Mortan worked on the small spear between them. Mortan wrapped wet sinew around the split rear just in front of the deepest portion of the cut while Brug held the thin projectile in his strong hands.

Troog and Druwez prepared wing and tail feathers kept from the guineas. It was tedious to strip the feathers off one side while not crimping the hollow shaft of the stem of the feather. More than a few unusable, damaged feathers littered the ground between them, but a growing pile of successful attempts proved that they were getting better at this difficult task.

Druwez dropped a feather onto the pile, then picked up a wing and looked for the next one. He picked one in the lower section, and grasped it between his thumb and forefinger and twisted gently. It broke loose and came out cleanly, and Druwez dropped the wing back into his lap while he studied the feather. He grinned, it was perfectly shaped.

The hunters had been successful early this morning, killing a pair of suidae they found at the creek just past the pond. The pigs were rooting around in the mud at the edge of the cane patch deeply involved in some kind of mating ritual, and had been preoccupied and easy to sneak up on. Druwez had gotten in the first shot, and Troog and Mortan hit the second suidae at almost the same time.

It had almost been too easy, but since the hunters had work they all wanted to get to on the new weapon development, it was just as well. There was no real shortage of food stuffs at the camp, but Brug still wanted to hunt every day. He took the responsibility of feeding the camp very seriously, as did all of the hunters, and their results showed in kind.

The gently curved bow lay on the ground next to Brug, and as he held the arrow still while Mortan wrapped it, he kept glancing down at the piece of smooth wood. Something odd kept coming into his mind, the beginnings of an idea of some kind, though Brug couldn't quite put his finger on it. There was something else to do, or maybe to do differently, he thought as Mortan pulled the sinew tight and the arrow pulled against him. What is it, Brug wondered as he pulled his gaze off the bow and paid attention again to the task at hand.

**********

Tulie studied the layout from a vantage point near the central fire pit. The stones were easy enough to see from here, and she tried to picture huts in their place. Vincavec stood beside her doing much the same thing. They had laid out corner stones for two huts on each side of the lodge. The shade of the canopy of large trees covered most of the main lodge, as well as the marker stones.

"Do they look too close together?" She asked.

"It's hard to tell, I don't think so." Vincavec answered as Matera walked over with Lumie at her breast. She leaned over and kissed his cheek, and Vincavec gently stroked Lumie's soft hair as he smiled at them both.

"What do you think, Matera, do the marker stones look too close to the main lodge?" Tulie asked, pointing out the light colored stones.

Matera scanned the area, having never lived in a communal set up like this, it was a hard concept to imagine. The main lodge was smaller than she was used to seeing, but the smaller huts the marker stones represented threw off her reasoning. This was a whole new concept to her, and she still had a hard time picturing it all in her mind. The structures would be rather close together this way, she considered, but there would have to be several of them after all. Matera thought about all this before answering.

"I don't think so." She finally replied. "How many homes will we need to build?"

Vincavec chuckled, asking himself the same thing-again. He and Tulie had sat down to try and figure out the same thing earlier this morning. Ten huts plus the main lodge had been the original consensus, the thought of this number was staggering. It was all still conjecture, of course, but that was what they had come up with so far.

Tulie grinned as she answered Matera's query. "We think it will take ten homes to house us all comfortably."

"Wow." Matera uttered softly, the magnitude of the project becoming a realization for the first time in her mind. What an undertaking, she thought.

Nezzie and Marsie came out of the new lodge as Mamie and Deegie walked past them and went in carrying bulging skins of supplies. Inside the lodge, piles of supplies were being stacked up around the inside walls. Bed platforms were being built, and a pile of stones rested in between the two fire pits. The progress of the lodge was slow, but steady, with Latie and the Mog-ur inside laying out the floor plan and the locations for the room dividers.

Since this was the main lodge, it had been decided that Latie and Brenan would occupy one side of it, while the Mog-ur, Rug and Etra would live in the other. This was to be the communal gathering place, and a lot of things had to be considered in how it was all divided and utilized. There were a lot of things left to be decided, but the work continued on anyway.

**********

Frebec glanced at the soft noise from behind the short row of brush. He pulled his spear thrower up and took a few tentative steps toward the sound. The sound stopped, and so did Frebec. He glanced back behind him, the women were all busy, digging sticks poking holes and unearthing more of the amber colored roots from the patch in the clearing. Crisavec stood guard on the other side of them, gripping his spear while using the butt of it as a walking stick as he paced slowly and watched to the north.

More rustles behind the bushes, and Frebec turned back to face the sound again. He spotted a brief movement through a small gap and lowered his body to get a better look. More soft sounds, but nothing to see, he took another two short steps forward. Movement again from the same place as before, and as quick as Frebec saw it, it stopped.

Frebec paused to glance around the area past the group of bushes, his swept his eyes slowly over the area. There, he thought as he froze to study what could have been more movement. A short just of breeze blew through, and there was suddenly movement everywhere until it subsided. Just as the leaves began to still, he saw it.

A reddish colored, furry tail stuck up between some greenery, it twitched twice and was gone as fast as it had appeared. A rustling in the leaves drew his attention back to where he had seen something before, a little louder this time. Frebec concentrated on the line of brush, and suddenly the entire area exploded in movement and sound.

Inca and her gatherers all froze, then backed away from the sounds in a rush of panic, and Crisavec turned on his heel and quickly sprinted toward Frebec who had his spear thrower high and ready.

A large red river hog broke from the cover of the brush and ambled out into the edge of the clearing. At the same time, dholes came out of the brush in a wide, sweeping arc. There were a lot of them, and they moved quickly and efficiently encroaching fast.

The hog spun around as it faced off with Frebec, looking for a way out. The dholes moved in, yipping and snarling as they closed the distance and the semi-circle closed in around the hog, and the humans.

Frebec backed off slowly, speaking in a stern, but strangely calm sounding voice as he did. "You women back off, go back the way we came. Cris, go with them and stay close enough to protect them."

The hog snorted, pawing the dusty ground with his ears sticking straight up. The long tufts of lighter colored hair at the tips of his ears gave his face a formidable, threatening appearance.

Silvie herded the women back toward the short trees slowly, Inca bringing up the rear walking backwards to keep her eye on Frebec and the hog, and the snarling dholes.

Crisavec disregarded Frebec's commands, and moved closer to the man of his hearth. He pulled an extra spear from the scabbard and held one in each hand as he moved. Crisavec's adrenalin rush nullified his fear, and a strange excitement overwhelmed him as he moved, his eyes wide, taking in everything.

Dholes encroached quickly into the clearing from each side, flanking the hog as it spun around. The hog faced them and snorted, then spun again, kicking up dust as he did. Two more dholes burst through the brush directly in front of Frebec, snarling and dancing from side to side.

Frebec backed up a few more steps, and glanced behind him quickly. He saw Inca backing away from the far edge of the small clearing, and was surprised to see Crisavec closing in from his left.

"Cris, get back with the women, you have to protect them!"

Crisavec ignored Frebec, watching him turn back to face the pack of dholes and the trapped hog.

Frebec tried make a quick decision, but the hog made it for him. He turned and in a blur of movement came right at Frebec, snorting and grunting loudly in an effort to scare him out of his way. Frebec took aim and threw the spear, it glanced off the shoulder of the hog, taking a small piece of flesh with it as the hog grunted and darted to Frebec's left as it kept going.

The dholes took off, closing in fast from all directions out in front of him. As Frebec struggled to slap another spear into the spear thrower, he had a sudden thought that he was done for.

The hog squealed in agony and surprise when Crisavec's spear took him in the side, smashing through his ribs and knocking him off his feet. The hog tumbled, legs still churning as the dholes swamped him. Crisavec ran as fast as he could to Frebec, and four of the dholes came right at the two of them.

The spear flew, taking a dhole in the chest. Frebec reached back to grab another spear as Crisavec jumped in front of him, brandishing his long throwing spear and setting his feet. The dhole screamed out as it bit at the thin shaft of the spear, and his companions ran on past.

Crisavec stabbed at the nearest encroaching dhole, nicking his chest just hard enough to draw blood. The dhole spun around and Crisavec jabbed at the next closest one. Frebec pulled his lone throwing spear from over his shoulder, and planted his feet firmly as he took up a strong position next to Crisavec.

The two men held off the rushing dholes, barely at first, then gaining the advantage in short order. The carnage of the surrounding dholes as they pounced on the wounded hog was loud and ferocious.

Frebec jabbed at a dhole, the spear falling just short, and the two of them began to back off slowly. One step at a time. The dholes quit lunging at them, instead they held their ground, snarling and yapping.

It took a long, long time to get to the relative safety of the trees. The snarling dholes stopping short at the far edge of the clearing.

Frebec and Crisavec finally caught up with the women near the creek, and after a brief rest, headed back to camp.

**********

"...all right, I want more guards to go out with you gatherers. We don't even know all the dangers that may lurk out there." Talut said between bites of suidae that was so tender it fell off his knife more often than it held together. He set the knife on the edge of the platter and picked up a thin sliver of meat and picked it up with his fingers.

"Vincavec, who can you spare?"

Vincavec scrunched his brow in thought as he looked over the mass of people all sitting around eating. The scent of succulent foods permeated the entire camp. He finished chewing the bite in his mouth and swallowed the tasty meat with relish before answering.

"Good question, take whoever you need, we'll make do." Vincavec and Tulie were still hip deep into the process of trying to figure out how to go about the massive task of building all the individual huts necessary to house this huge camp anyway.

Tulie sat next to Vincavec with Barzec on the central most seating log. She had been as disturbed as the rest of the camp at the close call Frebec and the gatherers had encountered while out this afternoon. More had to be done to protect them, this strange land posed no lack of dangers. Tulie was about to speak when Regan piped in and beat her to it.

"I'll go with them." Regan said with a smile, she sat with her mate Thorec on the log across from Tulie. Thorec idly caressed her lower belly, slightly dissented with the early bulge of pregnancy. Regan had always been an avid hunter, and her skills were respected as much as any of the men.

Thorec was relieved, he worried about Regan working so hard on the lodges as she had been. She had no qualms about lifting and toting heavy stuff, and Thorec wished she would take it a little easier on herself being newly pregnant and all. He would rather her be on guard duty instead of the hard work she had been doing of late. Thorec had no doubts at all about her abilities wielding a spear.

Tulie smiled, this was a good fit, and she looked over to Martag sitting with Marsie down the log from Regan. Though a little older than most of the builders, he had shown his worth many times over during the construction of the main lodge. Tulie worried a little about him pressing too hard though, he wasn't quite as fit as most of the younger men.

"Martag, would you be willing to help Frebec too?" Tulie was careful with her tone of voice, the last thing she wanted to do would be to sound condescending to him. "I would feel better about their safety if a man of your abilities were with them."

Martag nodded his head in agreement, the hard work on the main lodge had taken its toll on him, though he never would have admitted it. He was happy to be given this job, and knew it was as important as any other task that needed attending. Marsie was pleased as well, she knew the hardship her mate had endured and had seen the toll it took on him physically.

"Good, that should be enough." Talut said through a mouthful of thinly sliced, tender tubers.

"We are going to need a fresh supply of cane, and main support posts too." Vincavec said after a brief pause.

Branag looked up from his platter. His people had been cutting supplies for the steps down the cliff, but they almost had everything that Draag asked for done. Another day at the most and they would be all caught up.

"How much do you need?" He asked, stabbing a piece of meat at the edge of the platter and watching it fall to pieces under the sharp blade.

Vincavec chuckled, the bright tattoos around the outside edges of his eyes accenting the mischievous sparkle in his bright blue eyes. "Enough for ten small huts."

Branag's eyes opened wide. It got quiet around the gather, then small spattering of laughter began. Before too long it grew into a low roar. Branag laughed as loud and as hard as the rest of them.

**********

Branag pulled the axe back away from the log as it separated and became two shorter logs. He wiped the back of his wrist across his brow, smearing his scarred forehead with sweat and dirt.

Ludeg pulled the piece of vine cordage off the ground and pulled it along the side of the left log. The length of the log matched the length of the cord, but when he stretched it out along side the log on the right, the log was longer by two full hand widths. Ludeg made a small cut in the bark with his knife at the end of the cord, then tossed the cord back on the ground behind him. He picked up the correctly sized log and laid it on a pile of three others just like it.

Next to this pile, eight short logs with one split and flattened side made a small pyramid. A stack of thinner, but slightly longer poles in three different lengths rested beside these.

Branag grinned and held the axe out to Ludeg's waiting hand and stepped back a few steps. Ludeg knelt down and got comfortable then started chopping with careful, measured strokes. Bark flew off the log as he worked his way around the log, keeping the cut in a straight line.

Jozen and Stolie walked up to the edge of the drop off with a long log under each arm. They walked slowly, careful to keep the weight and mass of the long pieces of hardwood from throwing their balance off as they approached the edge. They dropped them to the ground one at a time, onto a small pile of five other logs of similar size.

The two of them picked up one of the heavy logs and walked it to the edge of the cliff as Branag walked over directly under them. Taking their time, Jozen and Stolie lowered the end of the log down over the edge a little bit at a time and Branag reached up to steady it as the weight shifted downward. Together, they lowered it until it touched the hard rock surface of the terrace. Branag walked down the length of the log, holding it firmly in his strong hands, lowering it step by step until it lay stretched out on the terrace behind where Ludeg worked.

Jozen and Stolie grabbed the next log as Branag walked back over to receive it.

Down below them, off to the south, work on the second set of steps continued. Talut and Danug wrestled with a long, thick log, holding it steady as straight up and down as they could while Ranec positioned the bottom of it into place. When they got it situated correctly to their satisfaction, they held it firmly in place. Draag knelt down and started wrapping a length of thick, pliable vine dripping with water around the bottom to the post securing it to the almost square frame laying on the rock.

It took a while for Draag to get it all wrapped up and tied off. As soon as he finished it off at ground level, he sat up and lifted a cross brace up with Ranec's help. Together, they positioned it across between the two uprights, and fit it into the small notches cut into the poles for locators. Ranec stood up straight, and pressed the cross brace firmly while Draag pulled another vine from the hanging skin full of water and began to tie off the end that Talut and Danug held.

The work continued on this set of steps in the bright, hot sun.

**********

"How about something like this?" Jaycie asked, holding up a small circle of cane strips made by weaving them all together. It was big enough to fill her palm as she held it out for the other men to see. The three of them all stopped tying the cane mat to the frame of the long rectangle to see what she had.

"That's clever." Wymez began with a smile. "But what is it supposed to do?"

Rymar and Brenan both grinned at the interplay between the two. Jaycie smiled back at the man of her heart, and sat down in front of the door on the ground.

"If we make one of these rings, looping it between the support post and the door frame, the door should be able to swing out around the post. It will also hold the door off the ground if we do it right." She explained, wrinkling her brow as she spoke.

"One of those will hold up the whole door?" Wymez asked, biting back a knowing grin.

Jaycie gave him a stern look, but her eyes twinkled with love as she went on. "No, but three or four of them should."

"Oh." Wymez said, grinning broadly now. "I see."

Jaycie reached over and whacked Wymez on the shoulder in mock exasperation. Wymez laughed aloud, reaching up to snag her wrist and pulled her over. Jaycie lost her balance and sprawled into his lap where Wymez wrapped her in his arms and started kissing her all over her face softly.

Brenan reached over and picked up the small woven ring of split cane where it had fallen onto the door mat. He studied it for a moment, then closed his eyes trying to picture the idea in his mind. After a long pause, he opened his eyes and looked at Jaycie who was in the middle of being kissed playfully on her forehead.

"Jaycie, this is a great idea." Brenan's voice had the distinct edge of excitement in it. "This might well work."

Rymar thought it might too, and grinned at the older man and his much younger woman as they wrestled playfully. What an unusual technique, he thought as he saw it all in his creative mind, Jaycie is clever.

**********

Tulie and Vincavec worked facing each other, sharpened poles as big around as their forearms in their hands. They worked at boring holes in the ground where the corner posts had been, stopping often to dig out excess dirt and the inevitable stones they encountered along the way. It was hard, tedious work.

Crews worked on each side of the new lodge, they had decided to build the smaller huts two at a time. Holes were being dug at each of the corner post markers, as well as two more between them at equal distance. At what would eventually be the front side of each hut, the two central posts were closer together where the doorway would be.

**********

Inside the main lodge, work continued on the bed platforms. The platforms were a little different than they were used to making, by necessity.

There was already a lot of stone construction that had been completed. Stone having been already used to build the outside, calf high wall and the paving stones necessary to cover the floor and raise it above ground level. Because of all this, the bed platforms were constructed much lower than usual, barely above ankle high.

Bringing in all the required stone had already begun to sap the immediate supply, and a group of people were out scrounging the area for more. They brought it into camp from all directions and began a pile on each side of the main lodge.

Barzec found an ample supply of loose rock near the edge of the cliff to the southeast at a short, jagged drop off. There was a lot of usable stone here, but it was a good little walk from here back to the camp. A line of folks toting rock soon formed to bring it back.

**********

Brug sighted in on the target of cut, piled grass. He took a deep breath and let the arrow loose. The arrow wobbled as it left the bow with a soft twang, and fell a little short of the grass. Brug scowled at the results. So did Mortan beside him.

He pulled the small piece of thin, fitted leather tighter over his left hand and reached down to pull another arrow from the scabbard. Brug studied it for a moment, this arrow was considerably longer than the one he had just shot.

When he shot this arrow, it flew a little farther, but still fell well short of the target. Frustration was growing.

'There still something wrong, we missing something.' Mortan signed with a serious look on his face. The two of them had been at it for a while now. Alone at the far western edge of the camp in a small clearing, they kept at it.

Brug nodded, he was thinking much the same thing. No matter what they tried, there was not enough power to make the arrow fly fast or hard enough. He used the entire length of the string, and the tension was strong, but it wasn't enough. Not nearly enough.

'Let's gather up the arrows.' Brug signed, pulling the cleverly shaped half glove of thin leather that Troog had made for him off his hand and dropped it on top of the scabbard of arrows. His forearm was sore and bright red from the string of the bow slapping it every time he shot an arrow. Mortan had similar marks on his arm.

The boys gathered up the arrows and checked each one for damage. One had a chipped point where it had hit a rock that was promptly tossed away, but all the butt ends were intact though two had damaged feathers. The method of wrapping sinew around the back side of the notch where the arrow fit over the vine was working at least.

'Let's try a shorter vine.' Mortan signed as they tried to decide their next move.

Brug though about it for a moment, then nodded his agreement, and then he carefully de-strung the bow. He handed Mortan the vine so he could measure off a new one and sat down to think. The graceful curve of the bow got his attention for some reason, and Brug concentrated on it while Mortan worked on a new bowstring. Something else, what is it, Brug wondered, there is something we are still missing here.

A hare rustled through the grass from the edge of the brush to their left, the hare was in full flight as it crossed out in front of them leaping and running full bore. More rustling followed him as three dholes appeared in chase. Mortan and Brug both got to their feet, grabbing their spears.

More dholes came out of the brush, five-no six now. They pulled up when they saw the two boys, and watched them and the pursuit as well.

Two dholes veered left forcing the hare to his right sharply. In another leaping bound, the dhole on the right caught the hare by the back leg and both tumbled in a heap. The other two dholes got there and pounced at the same time, ripping the hare apart in a shower of blood.

When they looked up, one of the dholes spotted the boys. With a snarling yip, he bounded away toward the safety of the brush. The other two grabbed up the remains of the hare and followed. A few seconds later, they were all gone, almost as if they were never even there at all.

Brug watched them disappear, and waited for a moment longer to be sure they were really gone before sitting back down, Mortan followed suit.

Mortan went back to work on the new vine, tying a loop on one end and snipping off the excess. Brug set his spear down, and looked back at the curved bow on the ground.

Mortan finished up, measuring the new vine to the old one. It was the length of his thumb shorter. Satisfied, he handed it to Brug.

Brug nodded at Mortan with a subtle gesture that roughly meant 'good job' and picked up the bow. The loop was tight as he slipped it over one end, and he had to press it hard to seat it into the groove with his thumb. When it fit in the groove, he stood up and picked up the bow and put one end against the ground with the body of the bow behind his thigh. Brug pulled against the curve and strained against the tension as he tried to seat the other loop. It wasn't working, the vine was way too short. Confused, Brug let the tension off slowly.

Mortan laughed, he pointed at the bow and signed. 'You tried to string backward.'

Brug looked at the bow, Mortan was right. He stopped, Mortan was right, but the bow felt stiffer this way-why was that, he wondered. He thought about it for a moment as Mortan continued to chuckle at him. An idea dawned on Brug, and he looked up to Mortan and signed quickly.

'Get the other string.'

Mortan stopped laughing and fetched the old piece of vine, and handed it over. He wondered what Brug wanted with it.

Brug pulled the new vine off the end of the bow, replacing it with the old one, but twisted the loop to the opposite direction in the carved notch. He set the bow and pulled tension on it against his thigh again, pulling it against the curve of the bow again, on purpose this time. Mortan watched with interest. The vine was too short, but not as much so as the new one had been. Brug tried one last time to set the loop, then released the tension.

'Make new vine,' He signed, then held up his hand with a space between his thumb and forefinger. 'This much longer.'

Mortan grinned, he didn't know what Brug was up to, but his curiosity was definitely peaked. It took a few tries before Mortan found a suitable piece of vine from the bag, but when he found the right one he went to work. With his excitement, it was the quickest bowstring he had made yet.

Brug struggled to get the vine strung over the heavy tension of the bow, pulling against the natural curve, but it just fit. When he made a couple of practice pulls, Brug could tell that the power would be dramatically increased. He worried that the bow would break, but he was anxious to try it out anyway.

Mortan held out an arrow, it was one of the medium length ones. Brug took it and slipped the open fingered glove over his left hand and pulled it tight. He knocked the arrow and turned to face the target.

Brug took a deep breath, and had to force his hands to quit shaking with excitement. He pulled the string back slowly, hoping the bow wouldn't break. When he had the string almost back to his face, he stopped and sighted in on the target. He let the arrow fly, and the sharp slap of the string hitting his forearm sent a fresh stab of pain up his arm. Brug didn't notice the pain for long as he watched the arrow fly so fast he could hardly follow it and it buried itself into the bottom of the pile of grass.

"Wow!" Mortan said softly, a huge grin spreading over his face.

Brug though the same thing, but inside, his grin was wider than Mortan's. Much wider. Brug's forearm throbbed painfully.

**********

Mog-ur walked slowly out toward his favorite place near the edge of the cliff. He used the spear that Rug and Draag had made for him sort of like a walking stick, prodding the ground with the pointed end up. It was a fine weapon, but one he had not yet mastered. Mog-ur had not taken the time to learn to throw the spear, but there was no real hurry, he had no immediate need to acquire this skill.

The late afternoon sun beat down on him, beads of sweat glistening off his hairy body as he walked. He wore only the short leggings that were so popular, and light weight foot covers. Off to his right, the entry trail that led down to the terraces that descended the cliff was cleanly defined and had a series of rock steps that made passage over the edge easy. A wide semi-circle of paving stones marked the area clearly. Without thinking, he turned toward it.

He made his way over to the slightly raised flat of paving stones and peered out over the edge of the cliff. The wildlife of the flats stretched out from a few hundred steps away from the bottom of the cliff all the way out over the expanse of the grasslands. It continued all the way to the thin strip of woods that bordered the second river on the far horizon. What a rich, abundant land this is, he thought as he observed the slow but constant movement of the mixed colored hoard of wildlife. Huge groups, small groups, trios, pairs, and singles, the variety of animals going about their lives was astounding.

Mog-ur looked straight down and off to his right, spotting Talut first, then seeing the other three busy at the second set of wooden steps far below. The sight made him a little dizzy, it was a long way down the sheer cliff side. The pile of raw materials near the wooden structure was small now, and the platform appeared from here to be near its completion.

Backing up slowly to regain his overall sense of balance, Mog-ur turned and walked along the edge of the cliff back to the southeast. He despised the sense of dizziness he often felt when looking down the sheer drop off, it was both unnerving and strangely spiritual. It almost felt as if someone, or more rather, something, wanted him to take a sudden step forward and fly through the air. Mog-ur tried again to dismiss this odd, frightful thought as he wandered back toward the three stones set up as a seat.

Rug had built him this special seat overlooking the flats on a small rise of solid stone, and it afforded a fabulous view of the flats below. A tall tree with a thin trunk and a wide canopy of leaf covered limbs shaded the seat of rock for most of the early afternoon, and completely through the latter duration of the day. Though it was uncomfortable at first, Mog-ur had gotten used to sitting on the raised platform and it was now his favorite place to be alone and to meditate.

A dark grey lizard with two bright red splotches on each side of his neck looked up at him from the center of the wide stone. He was big, his body stretched over three quarters of the width of his seat. This stone was set across two smaller stones that held it up off the ground almost as high as Mog-ur's knees. The lizard flared the skin on each side of his head and opened his mouth threateningly, then hissed. His long tail flicked back and forth, hanging off the stone, dangling in the air.

Mog-ur stopped to watch this odd looking creature, wondering if he really was as brave as he acted. He wasn't. He hissed again as Mog-ur took one more step and flared his skin even wider to no avail. The lizard leaped off the stone and scampered away over the light grey rock to disappear into the short grass off to the left. The lizard was very fleet afoot, becoming a blur of motion as he escaped unscathed.

Watching his go, the Mog-ur wondered how big such creatures eventually got. The memory of the succulent taste of crocodile tail never seemed to be far from his mind, it was now one of his favorite foods. He set his spear on the ground, leaning it against the center rock and sat down, readjusting the wide plaque back to the center of his hairy chest. The plaque had a stylized cave bear carved on the side facing out, hung from a single thong of thin leather around his neck.

Mog-ur kicked off his foot covers, heavy with sweat, and they landed on the rock beneath him with a plop. He reached up to scratch his chin through the tangle of his long beard, drops of sweat ran down his face. A soft breeze blew in off the flats, bringing with it the smells of the teeming life below. The cool air felt good against his sweat covered skin. His mind began to clear.


	35. Chapter 25 Part 2

**Chapter Twenty Five**

_Rocks, Mud, and Rainbows_

**Part Two**

Branag took in the small stand of trees. They were all about the right diameter, and the leaves were correct, but these trees were considerably taller than the ones they usually had found. The grouping of this small forest was tight too, much tighter than normal. Branag wondered why this would be as he tried to get a count of the best trees to cut for support posts.

They had been exploring to the northeast of the camp for the better part of the afternoon. Having finished up, at least for now, the materials that Draag needed, it was time to locate more support poles for Vincavec. The woods they had gone through were mostly pretty sparse and easy to traverse, but populated with the extremely dense hardwood that was so difficult to cut. Vincavec didn't need the poles to be that hard, and he was in search of the softer, easier to harvest trees with the now familiar leaf patterns.

When they reached the edge of the woods, this stand had come into view, looking like a small island in the middle of a grass covered meadow. As they approached, it became obvious that the stand wasn't nearly as small as it had looked from a distance.

"This is perfect." Ludeg said, standing beside him. "We can get a lot of usable poles from here."

"Why do these trees grow so close together, it's not like this elsewhere?" Stolie asked, her hand on the small of Jozen's sweaty back.

Leave it to Stolie, Branag thought, to ask the same questions I have. He stared at the outer edges of the stand, trying to discern this odd, compact growth. Small rocks broke through the ground, obvious and easy to see in the short grass. Several places looked to be completely void of grass all together, and when he concentrated on these bare spots, he saw that the ground was almost solid rock there. This is an odd place, Branag thought to himself as a short gust of cool air blew through.

"The ground looks pretty rocky, maybe these trees don't do well in this kind of broken up soil." Jozen said, thinking aloud.

"Maybe." Ludeg said softly.

"Let's check it all out first. Jozen, you and Stolie circle the stand that way." Branag said pointing to the left. "Ludeg and I will go this way and we'll meet you on the back side of the stand."

"Weapons up." Ludeg said, fitting a spear into his spear thrower.

They separated, circling the stand slowly. It was pretty easy to see into the stand a good way, even through the darkness of the shade. The ground around the edge of the stand was indeed rocky. Loose rocks jutting up out of the ground and large flat rocks were partially exposed as well. Thin, short grass grew in small clumps where soil was available and also, a few brightly colored wild flowers and weeds intermixed with the deep greens of the short grasses.

The ground was pretty flat in all directions out from the stand, and the greenery increased as the rocky ground seemed to break up. To the right, brush began gradually a few hundred steps out as it spread back into sparse, low lying trees again. To the left, the grass expanded into a large green meadow for a while before the brush began again there.

Branag and Ludeg came around the right side of the stand. Far to the right, a small group of waterbuck females with several young took off for the safety of the trees beyond. A little closer in, a single, naked looking rhinoceros stood grazing peacefully. He paid them no attention at all.

When they cleared the trees, Branag and Ludeg saw a huge rock formation that stuck up out of the ground in the distance straight ahead. The broken rocks stuck up three times as tall as a man was tall, with huge boulders that over time had broken off and fallen. A few gnarly, short, twisted trees grew from the sometimes large cracks within the formation. The woods didn't begin again for some distance back behind the outcrop. Dark colored animals were perched all over it and the grounds immediately surrounding it.

From the left side of the stand of trees, Jozen led Stolie around to see the odd formation at about the same time. They froze in place, as astounded as Branag and Ludeg were on the other side.

The dark colored baboons yapped and screeched as soon as they saw the humans. Adults rushed out to herd up the youngsters, and soon they were all perched back up on the upper portions of the rocks and some climbed up into the short trees. Suddenly from the right side of the formation, a huge, mostly silver colored baboon rushed at them. He stopped thirty steps away from the rock, and stood up on his haunches. The baboon screamed out at them, then lunged forward a couple of bounds, stopping to pound his from feet on the ground, angrily threatening them to stay away with more screeching cries.

"Didn't Wymez say that baboons could be aggressive if they thought that they were threatened?" Ludeg asked softly.

"Yep, I believe he did." Branag said, grasping the spear securely in his hand.

**********

Brug pulled the string back to where the butt of the arrow was close to his ear, sighted down the arrow to the target and sent another arrow flying. It struck the target area a little high and to the right of the center. The arrow disappeared into the stack of cut grass. Brug stopped and readjusted the thin piece of leather he had tied around his left forearm, the slapping recoil of the string knocked it down toward his hand very other shot or so. The small wrap was Mortan's idea, and it was a good one. The slapping of the string still hurt, but nothing like it did against bare skin.

Mortan handed him another arrow, and Brug knocked it into place. He pulled back against the string, then let the pressure off to pull the butt of the arrow a little higher up the stretched vine. Re-seating it, he tried again.

Just as Brug pulled the arrow back close to his ear again, the bow snapped in two with a loud crack. The small section of the upper part slapped against Brug's shoulder, leaving a bright red whelp. Brug scowled, a little from the pain, but mostly from the fact that the bow had broken.

Mortan jumped back from the loud crack, then grimaced when he realized what had just happened. He saw the whelp on Brug's shoulder, and reached over to touch it lightly where a thin line of blood seeped from the edge of the rapidly spreading redness.

'You all right?' He signed as he wiped the thin trickle of bright red blood away to look at the wound. It was nothing serious.

Brug scowled, holding the main body of the bow out to inspect it. He signed back with his free hand. 'Not hurt, just angry.'

To Brug's surprise, Mortan laughed. He gave his friend a strange look, watching Mortan's face grow red as he laughed harder. Mortan slapped his other, uninjured shoulder and laughed some more.

Brug had a hard time finding anything funny about the broken bow, but the more Mortan laughed, the less anger he was able to feel. Before long, fat tears started running down his friend's face, and Brug started feeling the irritating contagiousness of his laughing hunting partner. He chuckled as it all became hopeless to hold on to the strong feelings of his own inadequacies. The more he thought about it, the funnier it all got.

Mortan signed in a jerky, haphazard motion. 'Not learn throw spear in a day.'

Brug suddenly laughed aloud, his deep, guttural voice resonating over the small clearing. Mortan was right, if it was worth doing, he would make ten more bows if necessary to figure it all out.

The key was, they had tasted success. It could be done, and they now knew it. Besides, they had already learned a lot.

Brug laughed again as Mortan took the broken bow from his hands and slapped it at the shattered end, grinning broadly.

Mortan looked at him, and nodded. 'We can do this.' He signed, then laughed out loud again. Mortan handed the broken bow back to Brug and turned to go out and fetch the arrows from the pile of grass, and those that had missed.

Brug nodded, then chuckled some more as he studied the broken weapon that had taken so long to make.

**********

Latie set the two rocks up against the short knee wall of rock at the back left corner of the main lodge. She pulled a short piece of vine from her belt and strung it between the rocks. The rocks were a little too close together, and she moved one out a little more. It was hot in the structure, even though it sat in the shade of the huge trees to the rear. The air was hot, and no real breeze came through. Sweat dripped into her eyes, and when she used the back of her hand to wipe it away, the burning only got worse. She sat back, stringing the short measure of vine again. This time the distance between the rocks matched the length of vine correctly.

A small, soft gust of wind came through the open doorway where Brenan and Rymar held the new door open but in place while Jaycie did something to the top of it. Wymez observed the work, standing behind them. From here, Latie couldn't see just what they were doing, but the brief breeze had felt awfully good.

She got up and walked over to them, pausing to look at Jaycie weaving a small circle of thinly stripped vine through the door frame and the support post. Latie smiled at Brenan who sat on the ground holding the bottom of the door, leaning down to give him a quick kiss. Brenan cupped her bare breast with his free hand as she kissed him, then looked terribly disappointed when she pulled back and went on her way.

Latie walked over to the ever growing pile of stones to the right side of the lodge. Rug and Frebec were there, having just dropped off another few stones. When they saw her starting to pick up a particularly long stone, they got it for her. She smiled and thanked them, and led them back to the lodge. They set the long, flat stone over the two Latie had in place, creating a low shelf.

Frebec stood up, wiping sweat off his forehead, Rug did the same.

"Frebec, isn't there anything we can do to get some breeze blowing through here?" Latie asked.

Frebec thought about it for a moment, noticing the heat and still air inside the lodge pretty much for the first time. Since helping to construct the roof and the walls, he hadn't spent any time at all to speak of inside it during the day. It was hot in here, he thought, and bean to study his surroundings for a solution.

"It works!" Wymez exclaimed from the doorway. All attention from those working inside the lodge quickly centered on the four of them at the doorway.

"Wow." Brenan said, pulling the door open and closed slowly.

The people all gathered around, watching.

Jaycie had woven three rings of stripped cane through the door frame and the support poles, and the door pivoted inside the rings. It was a little rickety, it dragged the ground on the far side, and there was no way to secure it to the other side yet, but it did indeed work. It was quite the accomplishment, and Jaycie glowed under the constant praise, especially that which came from Wymez.

Frebec got closer and studied the technique, it was clever, but simple. An idea began to form slowly in his mind.

**********

Mog-ur thought about these new family size huts being built back at the camp. This was a radical departure from Clan ways and traditions, he almost chuckled as his thoughts roamed. So many things we do now bare stark contrast to Clan ways, he thought, wondering again if Ursus would be displeased with them as these strange changes in their ways continued. Thus far, the blessings of Ursus, and Mut, seemed to be upon them, he thought. The richness of their lives only seemed to increase as time went on. Doesn't this show that Ursus is pleased with us, he wondered again, why else would he endow upon us all this bounty.

The strains of all this abstract thought was hard on the Mog-ur. Thinking in ways contrary to Clan ways was difficult, and sometimes proved to be a little scary. Mog-ur began to consider again the new living arrangements.

By established customs of the Others, he was expected to live in the main lodge with Latie, Brenan, and Bralut. This family of the Others would have one end of the lodge, while Mog-ur lived in the other. Mog-ur was to have the Clan leader, Rug, his mate Etra, and their young baby boy living with him.

He was stunned to learn this when Trull-ee had sat down to explain it all to him, and wasn't really all that sure of the many reasons she gave. The huge woman of the Others was pretty fluent in Clan signs, but Mog-ur hadn't quite grasped all the finer points she had tried to elaborate on.

Mog-ur wasn't at all displeased to share a home with Rug and Etra, they were good Clan people and easy to be with, but it was all so strange. As he pondered it all again, a fleeting thought made him feel warm inside. Rug had no problems sharing Etra with him to relieve his needs. Besides, he thought to himself with a measure of satisfaction, Etra seemed to enjoy the extra attention well enough, though she was too good a Clan woman to ever show it openly.

None of the other living arrangements had been formalized as yet, but they had been discussed at some length that the leaders of the Others would be in the far outside huts. Mog-ur still wondered about this, especially since these would be the last huts to be built. The way these Others prioritized things was often baffling to him, but Mog-ur tried not to dwell on it too much. No matter how hard he might try, thinking like these people did was simply beyond his realm of understanding. They rarely did stupid things though, so going along with their odd ways was usually easy enough to do.

A rustling from the grass off to Mog-ur's left got his attention. He reached over and grasped the finely made spear and watched patiently. The tall grass parted where something walked, swaying enough for Mog-ur to ascertain that whatever it was, it was coming right at him. He took a deep breath, and followed the movements of the grass.

A bright, multi-colored bird emerged through a small swatch of low grass. The magnificent creature stopped when he saw the Mog-ur, then fanned his tail as the feathers on top of his head stood straight up majestically. The tail of the bird was extraordinarily wide and full, with abundantly colored and patterned feathers. The bird raised up, poking his colorful chest out and slowly stretched his curved wings out to his sides. In the bright sunlight, the colors of the bird almost seemed to leap off him and create a glow around him. Though not overly large, it was a bout the size of a guinea, but all flared out and puffed up like this he looked three times his normal size. The multi-colored bird was as beautiful as anything Mog-ur had ever seen.

Mog-ur jumped a little when the bird started crying out. It started with a high pitched call that began to undulate into an eerie sounding song, the likes of which Mog-ur had never heard before. As the stunning bird began the second repetition of his eerie song, Mog-ur smiled inside. He would never have guessed that such a beautiful bird could make such a terribly frightening sound.

Somehow, as the bird relaxed his stance and slowly began to pick up seeds from the ground and feed, unconcerned with Mog-ur's presence, a new thought came to him. It took him a while to come to grips with this idea, but as he thought it through it started making sense.

Just because something didn't sound like it appeared, it didn't make it necessarily bad, he realized. Perhaps this was true with the way the camp was being set up, his reasoning continued. Maybe by living separately-but still close together, the bonds of his people would actually grow in strength.

Mog-ur's abstract thoughts continued as he explored them one by one as the magnificent creature slowly worked his way back into the cover of the taller grass as he fed casually. The breeze blew in cool off the edge of the cliff in soft gusts.

**********

"Hold on, Talut." Ranec said as he pulled a small hand held axe from his belt. "I need to smooth off the knot a little more so it will seat right."

Talut lifted the heavy log back up to the center of his thigh, and Danug pulled his end up as well. The bottom of the log was still rounded in its natural shape, though the bark had been removed at both ends. Ranec knelt down, then lay on his side and looked up at the bottom of the log. He ran his hands over the slight bump, then began chipping away at the small extrusion with his axe.

Draag pulled a long piece of vine from the hanging basket of water, and turned to watch Ranec for a moment before reaching down into the water to find another. He rejected the vine he fished out of the hanging skin, but seemed satisfied enough with the second one he pulled out.

"Try it now." Ranec said as he scooted out from under the framework of the bottom of the steps a little way, but still peered up at the log.

Talut and Danug lowered the log back down, and Ranec helped them to position it correctly. This time it seated much better, the split, flat top aligning much closer to the one directly in front of it.

Draag waited until Ranec stood back up before tossing him one of the two lengths of vine. They each took one side of the flattened log, and started the slow process of tying it securely in place. Danug and Talut held it tightly in place until the first vines were tied off. It took three separate vines each to finish the job.

There was only one more log left to secure, then this set of steps would be finished.

Danug and Talut took a walk down the gentle, mostly cleared slope of the terrace while Ranec and Draag worked. There were still several places that the walkway needed more work, but it was clear enough to walk down without too much trouble. They slowed down as the walkway narrowed and grew steeper.

"What do you think," Danug asked, pointing to the rubble where the rock terrace began to break up and dissipate. "Should we cut steps into the dirt the rest of the way down?"

The angle of the slope gradually lessened where the grass began in earnest and the cliff bulged out slightly toward the level grounds below. They were getting close now, perhaps four or five times Talut's body heights still above the flats.

Both men couldn't help but to observe the wildlife below. The flats absolutely teemed with it. The darkness of the largest herd covered the entire center of the wide grass covered flats, but the lighter colored animals that surrounded them gave off a pleasant multi-colored contrast. Striped horses, long antlered antelope and deer, stocky deep brown aurochs looking grazers, naked looking mammoth and rhinoceros, they were all there within the two men's line of sight. As were the predators. Two different prides of lions, the inevitable groups of hyenas, two packs of the ever moving, nervous acting dholes, and the tall spotted cats that were so fast, so very fast. It was easy to lose themselves in watching the slow moving activities of the constantly moving sea of life, and Danug and Talut both yearned to get down there to hunt.

Talut finally pulled his eyes away from the panoramic sea of animals, and tried to concentrate back on the task at hand. His mouth watered from the sight of so many potential meals, and his stomach rumbled.

"If we cut steps, we will need to line them with rock to prevent the rains from washing them out." Talut scratched the stubble of red and white hair on his chin, sweat ran down his face creating small clean streaks through the dust.

"That's what Draag said too." Danug said, grinning at Talut. "I guess all you old guys think the same way."

Talut hit Danug in his lower ribs with a quick elbow. Danug grunted as he stepped back, laughing aloud as he rubbed his ribs.

**********

Stolie leaned back against the tree in the shade, three throwing spears and an axe beside her. The sun was dropping steadily, and the reach of the shade stretched out far to her left.

The grey back baboon sat with a single youngster well out in front of the rock formation, staring back at Stolie with unblinking determination. The young baboon groomed the grey back from behind, pulling ticks from his thick fur and eating them as he went. The peaceful, but nervous standoff had continued throughout the long afternoon. Stolie heard someone approaching from within the stand behind her, and smiled broadly when she saw it was Jozen.

Jozen accepted a brief hug and kiss from his mate, then stared out at the huge baboon who looked freshly agitated by his approach.

"Has he been there all afternoon?" Jozen asked softly.

"Yes, the little one came out a little while ago to keep him company." Stolie said as she gathered up her spears. "He played with the young one for a little while, but he never took his eyes off me the whole time. It was kind of spooky, he seems awfully smart."

"Well, we have a full load ready to carry back. Let's get busy, I don't want to get behind Talut at this evening's meal."

Stolie chuckled and the two of them gathered up her weapons and meandered back into the stand of trees. She looked back over her shoulder one last time, but the baboon hadn't moved from his spot.

There was indeed a full load to be carried back. Posts as thick as the widest part of Jozen's well muscled thigh were piled high, cut to a length that was half again longer than he was tall. Several piles of trimmings ringed the pile, and more lay out in a tight perimeter. The men had cut most of the trees from the center of the stand, here they seemed to be pretty uniform in thickness, though they had varied in height a bit. This created a nice little clearing within the center of the stand, and there were quite a few more trees that met the criteria left to harvest.

Branag and Ludeg managed to carry two poles on each shoulder between them, but Stolie was only able to carry two poles total with Jozen. This left a sizable pile of cut logs, at least two more trips worth.

They started out slowly, shifting the weight of the heavy loads around until they got them situated as best they could for the long walk back. It took a little bit to get used to walking in tandem under the heavy load, but they all settled in after a little bit.

Ludeg glanced over his shoulder behind them often as they walked, trying his best not to let anything sneak up on them from behind.

**********

Frebec walked around the back side of the main lodge slowly, stopping every now and then to examine the tightly woven walls of split cane. He paid a little extra attention to where the mats were connected and overlapped at the support posts. Frebec had the beginnings of an idea, but so far it had been slow for him to work out the details. Latie was right, the still air inside the lodge was hot and stifling, they had to come up with some way to ventilate the structure adequately.

A small gust of air blew through, and Frebec felt a bit of hot air on the back of his neck. He stopped and reached his hand up to where the walls met the edges of the slanted roof. There was a small gap where the two parts of the structure met, and Frebec could feel some of the hot air escaping from there. He took a few steps forward, and reached his hand up again, feeling the same thing here. This is odd, he thought to himself, this new discovery adding to the growing bits of information he was trying to sort out in his mind. His brow wrinkled in thought as he moved on down the length of the lodge slowly.

By the time Frebec rounded the back corner of the lodge, the idea he was working on was beginning to take shape. He stopped for a moment to watch some of the workers as they dug holes or planted the long support poles for the new lodge. The two new lodges were coming along nicely, he thought absently as he passed. Frebec then walked on back around to the newly installed door.

Brenan and Rymar were discussing the details of some kind of latch they needed to make to hold the door closed as he approached. Rymar was busy describing something, using his hands to illustrate his idea with exaggerated motions while Brenan followed along.

Frebec stopped short of them a few steps away, studying the door structure. Deep in thought, it came to him like a sudden rainstorm all at once. The framework, he realized all at once, that's what had been missing from his original idea. Frebec felt his heart beating rapidly as he tried to picture this new version of his idea in his mind. Stick by stick, cut by cut, he went through the process of building the flap in his mind all over again. On the third repetition of the constantly evolving idea, he grinned. This will work, he thought with confidence. It will.

**********

Brug reached up and pulled down on the thick branch, it was stiff and strong and as big around as his forearm. The leaf pattern was correct, this was the dark brown wood that was so hard and overly difficult to work with.

Mortan grinned, they had been looking for a low lying limb that was the correct size that they could easily get to for a while. Where the branch began jutting out from the trunk, it was still a little high up and out of reach, but this one was doable. He reached up and grabbed the limb with both hands, and with a quick and powerful swinging motion slung his leg up and over the branch. Mortan shinnied up onto the branch, then crawled back toward the trunk of the tree while Brug held tension on the limb.

Brug let go of the limb once Mortan was all the way up and settled, and stepped back out of the way to watch. Mortan had to climb over a stray limb before he reached the trunk, and maneuvered his body into a sitting position, leaning against the trunk with his bare feet dangling.

Mortan pulled the short axe handle from his belt, and reached out a little away from his thigh and started chopping. The strokes he used were short and controlled, the wood was so hard that if he used much power it could easily damage the brittle flint blade of the axe.

Brug watched as Mortan worked, the lingering feelings of frustration of his most recent broken bow seemed to dissipate just a little with every stroke of Mortan's axe. The success they had with the last bow, and the discoveries they had made along the way were encouraging enough. Brug didn't consider giving up on the development of this new weapon, no matter how difficult and frustrating it could be. This thought never even entered his mind.

**********

Mog-ur was caught by surprise as the memory came to him suddenly, he was busy pondering something else entirely at the time. It's strange the way these things happen, he thought as he looked back out into the grass for the wildly colored bird. Pea-cock, this was what this beautiful animal was named, he knew this now-his memories had just told him so, and more. This bird was considered a delicacy, rich and tender, it was one of the best tasting of all the many breeds of edible fowl that inhabited the Land of the Sun. The peacock was long gone as he looked around where he had been before, and try as he might, Mog-ur had a hard time returning to his train of thought that had just been interrupted.

The ancient Clan memories sometimes, though not too often, seemed to have a life all their own. Mog-ur had experienced this before, when the memories acted in such a strange and disturbing way, but it was a usually a pretty rare occurrence. He had delved into his memories briefly a short time ago, searching for any scraps of information about this colorful bird, but had abandoned the effort to concentrate on other things. More important things that had a more immediate bearing on his Clan.

It would still be some time before the decisions would need to be finalized, but Mog-ur knew he had to consider all the possibilities now to be of use later. The two new lodges were already being built, and the groupings of who would live where was something that had to be considered now as opposed to later.

Mog-ur knew that the future of this Clan would be forever intertwined with this diverse group of the people of the Others. Our numbers are simply too few to go out and live on our own now, he thought. This was nothing new, as he had been forced to consider this situation many times in the past. Before, he had thought that though difficult, they would be able to thrive on their own, but now? This possibility seemed more than a little remote, but if they stayed here much longer they would no doubt never leave.

The Clan had lost three adults on this arduous journey. Three precious, productive Clan members. Two experienced hunters and a woman, Brug's mother. Mog-ur felt the stab of pain in his heart for these cherished people, now residing with in the spirit world with Ursus instead of here with the rest of them. He wished that they had been able to see this land, the land of their ancestors. Mog-ur missed them all, it seemed somehow unfair for them to have survived the calamity that the raiders of the Others inflicted on them, only to have perished on the journey.

What about Brug, he wondered, not for the first time. The young hunter had all but been formally adopted by Branag. Brug was probably old enough and mature enough now to have his own hearth, but he was so close to Branag and Deegie it would be a shame to take his new home away from him. The lad had already gone through so much in his short life. Losing the man of his hearth, then his mother. Taking Brug away from his new home and family with Branag and Deegie was out of the question. No, Mog-ur decided suddenly, this cannot be done.

Mog-ur took a deep breath, the decision was made and he felt his hands shake softly. The Clan would stay, this was their new home, here, now, and forever more. The implications of this realization washed over the Mog-ur in waves. Good or bad, this was how it would have to be, his hands shook a little harder for a moment before he was able to control them by squeezing them into tight fists.

Survival was now insured, within Ursus' overall plans for them, of course. The glistening sheen of sweat that covered his hairy body all the sudden became cold. This may be the beginning of the end of our traditional way of life, he thought, but has it already been lost?

Mog-ur knew that this Clan was no longer really a Clan as it had once been, something that had been made abundantly clear when they had come across a hunting party of Clan early on in their journey. He revisited this memory of the encounter, and confirmed his thoughts. No other Clan would see them as true Clan now, they were just too different. The way they dressed, the way they had modified the tight structure of status that ruled the Clan, they way they were more able to learn new things, new ways of living.

A slight breeze blew in over the cliff, chilling the Mog-ur even more in the midst of the heat of the day. Alone, without these people of the Others, this Clan was alone in the world. This thought chilled him to the bone, and forced Mog-ur to take another deep breath.

'Mighty Ursus,' Mog-ur looked up into the light blue sky, signing eloquently and with every nuance of the spiritual leader that he was. 'Are we doing what you wish us to do? Is this the way we are to live? If we live here with our friends, these clever people of the Others, will we be lost forever to the ways of the mighty Cave Bear?'

Mog-ur stared up into the bright blue sky, searching, hoping for an answer. Every fiber of his being was concentrated, looking for a sign, any sign. Everything Mog-ur knew or ever thought he knew was now suddenly in doubt. What would be the consequences if he were wrong, if Ursus' wishes for this Clan were different than this plan to stay here. Chill bumps ran over his entire body, again.

Nothing. No sight, no sound, nothing out of the usual presented itself.

Is this the way, he wondered again. What if I am wrong? For the first time since he had been healed by Tress-ee and Trull-ee so very long ago, Mog-ur had serious doubts, doubts about his own judgement concerning the future and well being of his Clan.

Mog-ur watched the sky for a long moment longer, then still seeing nothing, closed his eyes. He slowly slipped into a deep trance.

**********

Though they were quiet, Mog-ur heard Brug and Salen get up and gather their things to go out and take the second watch of guard duty. Danug and Troog were almost equally quiet as they came into the tent, their shifts finished. Mog-ur had been staring up at the ceiling of the tent for hours, sleep alluding him. He heard every subtle sound in the night, and some that weren't so subtle at all.

Salen stoked the small fire in the center of the tent, and in no time the soft light glowed a little brighter. A small cloud of smoke developed, and rose up slowly toward the smoke hole at the apex of the tent, casting odd shaped shadows off the stretched hides.

Talut and Branag seemed in the midst of a snoring contest, which Branag was currently winning. Frebec joined them occasionally with a decent effort of his own, though he was quiet enough for now.

Tressie moaned softly when Danug lay down beside her at the far end of the tent, and it wasn't long before Mog-ur could hear the beginnings of what promised to be a romantic encounter. He stared up at the flickering light from renewed fire, watching the wisps of smoke rise like clouds. His mind was still too preoccupied to sleep, and he began to think again about the old ways of the Clan. Mog-ur was restless, fidgety, and wide awake-still.

Mog-ur sat up, he would get no sleep tonight, he knew that for sure now. Quietly, he rolled over and got to his feet, careful to not disturb Etra sleeping beside him with baby Cruug cuddled contentedly at her side. Rug was not beside her, and Mog-ur wondered briefly where he was, knowing that Rug was not scheduled for guard duty this night. He picked up a sleeping fur and threw it over his shoulders as he made his way out of the tent, stepping carefully around prone bodies.

The cool night air greeted him with a clean smelling freshness that the tent could never match, and he pulled the spotted deer wrap over his hairy chest with his hand. The central fire was freshly stoked, casting a bright glow over camp. The smooth paving stones felt warm on his bare feet as he walked toward the fire. To the right, the dark sky was riddled with bright shimmering stars and a glowing crescent moon in a mostly clear sky.

The tea basket sat near enough to the fire to keep its contents warm, and Mog-ur dipped himself a cup and took a seat on a nearby seating log. The tea was a pleasant mix, and Mog-ur could taste a little of the tangy ingredient that Etra said helped keep the guards awake and alert. Mog-ur was a little surprised that the name of the plant escaped him, he usually had no trouble remembering such things.

To the southeast, the soft glow of a perimeter fire flickered under the dark canopy of the far end of the arc of tall trees. He could make out the profile of a man walking slowly with a long throwing spear in his hand as he made a round at the edge of the firelight. Another, smaller and more distinct figure sat near the fire working diligently on a long piece of wood. Brug, it had to be.

Looking back up to the northwest, the glow of this perimeter fire was farther away and cast a much softer light. No guards were in sight there, and Mog-ur caught a slowly moving shadow as his eyes panned slowly over toward the last perimeter fire off to his left. At the last fire, he saw a man standing, facing diligently away from the camp.

Insects sang out in the darkness, chirping and droning in soft waves that seemed to undulate in a wide circle around the camp. Over and over, round and round in a concerted, harmonic song that could easily lull one into a peaceful meditation or put you to sleep. This was such a peaceful place, he thought as he listened droning, slowly moving song.

Soft footfalls brought the Mog-ur's attention back, and he recognized Rug's wide, muscular shape coming toward him from his left. Rug set his spear down against the log and sat down next to him.

'Is everything all right?' Rug's signs were especially elegant looking in the soft, flickering light.

Mog-ur nodded, and took a sip of tea before signing. 'You were on duty last night, why are you up tonight?'

'Just checking up on the guards.'

Mog-ur smiled inside, Rug was every bit the leader in every way. He took his responsibilities as seriously as any Clan leader that Mog-ur had ever known. Strange, Mog-ur thought, for one not born and trained to the position Rug was such an extraordinarily proficient, insightful leader.

"Ursus" watched over us as he led us here.' Rug said softly as he signed. 'We have paid a high price on this journey, but He has found us worthy. This is a good home for the Clan. The best.'

Mog-ur was startled by Rug's words, and for the first time since his doubts had begun to bother him, began having second thoughts about his trepidations. He looked up into Rug's deep brown eyes that sparkled in the firelight.

Rug had no idea how much his words had affected the Mog-ur. He took a deep breath as he leaned back and yawned.

**********

The guards all came in a little before the first signs of dawn. They finished off the tea and Inca instinctively came out of the tent and made more with her baby boy, Bak, contentedly at her breast.

Brug had the bundle of sticks he was working on, and took them into the south tent to put them away with Salen walking beside him. When they came out, Mortan and Troog came with them. They all had their hunting attire with them, as well as their weapons. The four hunters had a cup of tea, donned their camouflaged clothing, then left. Brug led them, heading through the canopy of trees and moving out to the southeast.

The tea was slightly stronger than usual, but the taste was tangy and refreshing, and hot. Mog-ur felt a little lethargic this morning as the first signs of the dawn appeared. He yawned as he thought more about the things Rug had said, and of the doubts he had been feeling for the last few days.

The entire idea that his Clan was no longer truly Clan, like the Clans of old anyway, bothered him more than he would have admitted. He wondered again if Ursus was disappointed, or angry, or if the mighty monarch of his people actually understood. Could Ursus understand that this was possibly the only way for this Clan to survive, Mog-ur thought it through again, to change and evolve and live more like these people of the Others did. His head ached slightly from the continuing efforts to try and figure it all out, especially after what Rug had said, now he had even more to consider.

Talut and Draag gathered up a few digging tools, and they joined Ranec and Danug at the fire to get a bite to eat. The cliff workers soon left out, off for another day digging and paving steps down the steep incline.

The camp around him turned into a busy place this morning, as Mog-ur sat near the fire and observed the many activities going on all around him. Etra knelt down beside him, and took his nearly empty tea cup and refilled it from the basket she carried over from near the fire. He gave he a slight nod as she handed the cup back to him, showing his appreciation for her attentiveness. Mog-ur took a sip, it was almost too hot to drink, and the slight aftertaste of chamomile stayed on the back of his tongue pleasantly.

Mog-ur watched the activities going on all around him, silently observing the many interactions between the people of the Clan and the Others. As he watched them, another thought entered his mind. The ease in which they all worked together was an amazing thing to see, there was no conflict or discomfort apparent between the two different peoples. Everyone seemed to know and accept their roles, the projects they worked on were both well defined but flexible at the same time. One could be working on one thing, then go off to a different project and blend right in there seamlessly. No problems of status or leadership were evident, and anyone who had an idea was heard without prejudice. This had to be the work of Ursus, didn't it, Mog-ur considered.

Inca and Nezzie fussed over the ground oven, cleaning it out and preparing it for another load of meat. The bed of ashes were carefully removed and swept clean with a broken off small branch with a lot of little twigs at the end, covered with small leaves. They worked together effortlessly, needing little conversation between them, and what there was, was a strange mix of signs and spoken words. One thing was evident, communication between them was no real barrier at all anymore.

Over behind the central fire, little Ooga carefully sliced up a large bundle of cattail shoots with a knife made in the fashion of the Others. She sliced them at an odd angle, creating long ovals of the vegetable pods that were bite sized. Inca and Silvie worked beside her, cutting up pre-cooked meat into small cubes and piling them up on a pelvic bone platter. Ova prepared a clump of green bananas for roasting, while Brecie washed and trimmed bad spots off a platter of tubers beside her. Mamie added fresh water to the hanging skin that already had fresh cut vegetables floating around. All these women worked together with a comfortable sense of ease.

There were several baskets of greens, roots, and other vegetables and fruits set around behind them from the previous days gather. This was indeed a bountiful land, the gatherers seldom needed to go out more than every other day.

Branag led his group of workers out of the camp heading east through the light woods beyond the clearing for another day of procuring materials. They carried only hunting weapons today, their first chore today was to bring back the rest of the wood they had cut yesterday.

Mog-ur watched them go, then shifted his gaze around the camp. He got up and strolled toward the lodges under construction in an unhurried, relaxed manner.

Over at the lodges to his right, the work was segregated into groups. Poles were being set and the loose dirt around the holes pounded in to set them firmly into place. Cross braces were held up and tied between the uprights, wrapped over and under in a criss-crossed fashion.

The knee wall of stacked rock was almost complete on the right side lodge, and a pile of rock waited near the other lodge. The flooring was in process on both lodges, and a steady stream of people brought rock in from afar.

Wide diameter canes were being split on the odd looking tool that the tool makers had fashioned, the uniform strips piled up on the opposite side of the waiting cane poles. Both piles were large, one side growing and the other side shrinking as the work continued.

Wymez and Rug seemed to be everywhere, giving advice and stopping to help hold up a pole or set a stone. Vincavec and Rymar did much the same thing, looking for someone to assist that needed help. It was all so well coordinated in a loose, almost haphazard fashion. The results, however, weren't haphazard in the least. The daily accomplishments were astounding, seen easily at the end of every day.

Strips of cane were being woven into more mats by several women sitting in a large circle facing each other. Conversation there was light, interrupted often by laughter.

Rugie brought over a crying infant and handed her to Matera who stopped what she was doing to put the baby to her breast. Matera stroked the baby girl's head as she clamped onto her nipple with an imminent sense of urgency. Rugie then sat down and took over weaving for Matera while she nursed her rapidly growing baby. Mog-ur was amazed at how the young girl shifted roles so easily.

Mog-ur wandered back over to the fire, refilling his cup from the basket. When he straightened up, the giggle of children got his attention and he looked over to the small enclosure where the smaller children and babies were kept. Fralie sat in the middle of the smaller kids, tickling little Bralut and making him giggle so hard that his fat belly rippled. She then tickled Aylie in much the same way, then started in on Ina. He was stunned when the stocky little Clan baby chuckled and waved her arms about at Fralie's efforts.

Nuvie played some kind of hand game with a pair of the other children. Mog-ur couldn't understand just what the purpose of this game was, but Bectie and Tonie played along with obvious delight. Nuvie gently slapped the outstretched hands of the two little girls as they held them out, alternating from one to the other. Then, Bectie and Tonie took turns doing the same thing to Nuvie in return.

It hit him again, there were only a few profound differences between the children of the Others and the Clan. Well, he thought, the Clan babies were considerably quieter than the overly vocal children of the Others. Mog-ur chuckled at them as he watched their strange, noisy antics.

**********

Stolie snuck around the outer edge of the stand of trees slowly and quietly. When she was far enough, she stopped and leaned out to look to the rock pile, they were gone. She took a deep breath and walked a little further. The baboons were nowhere to be seen as she scanned the meadow, but there was a few grazers that didn't appreciate her disturbing their morning meal. They scampered further away from the intruder, and kept a wary eye on her as they settled down to feed again.

Seeing no threats, Stolie walked back around the stand and joined back up with the others. They loaded up all the cut poles they could carry and headed back to camp. From the looks of the poles left over, another two or three trips would be necessary.

**********

Draag and Talut settled the heavy, flat stone into the freshly dug indention. It was a little too wide yet, and Talut pulled the stone up across his knees while Draag carved a the hole a little wider with a sharpened stick. The stone fit this time when they set it back into the carved dirt.

Danug and Ranec worked a little further down the steep incline. There were three freshly carved notches in the dirt between them and the stone setters above. Ranec sat back with a digging stick in his hands while Danug wrestled to remove a rounded rock as big as his head from the surface of the ground.

Draag stood up on the stone step, shifting his weight back and forth between his legs to seat the stone securely. Talut stood on the step above him, looking back up the incline. They had over a dozen steps carved and paved from the end of the last rock terrace now. He walked up three steps and picked up another wide, almost flat stone from the pile for the next step down below. It was heavy and cumbersome, and he checked his balance as he stood up straight before he started back down the steps.

Talut was used to working on the incline now, as they all were, but he still took his time about getting around. To fall from here would be a dangerous prospect, even though the were well over three quarters of the way down. To his right, he could see the dissipating cloud of mist from the waterfall in the distance. He was anxious to have access to the flats and to the woods surrounding the lake at the bottom of the falls. The subtle rainbow formed by the mists, just barely within his field of vision, always made him smile.

A low pitched thundering rumble came from the flats down below that got all their attention quickly. A huge herd of the darkest colored animals were on the move, dust kicking up all around them obscuring the herd from the center on back. At the rear of the herd, the reason for their sudden departure was evident. A large group of hyenas had scattered out and circled around a single animal and her youngster. It was not apparent how they had singled her out from the main body of the herd, but it didn't really matter, she and her young one were doomed.

The herd didn't move too far before they changed direction and gradually slowed. A pair of young males hung back at the rear of the herd, and faced the band of predators. They made no move to try and rescue the female though, and her demise was immanent.

The hyenas made short work of the kills, the lead female leading the attack on the adult first as a lesser female went at the youngster. The adult was set upon with a ferociousness that took her down quickly. The female circled, then lunged suddenly and grasped onto the underside of her neck, and several others joined in from all sides. They had her down quickly, knocking her off her feet by the sheer weight of their numbers.

The young one fared no better, surrounded and attacked from all sides, she fell to the rapid assault bawling out in a helpless voice. She hit the ground hard as a pair of hyenas lunged at her at the same time, knocking her down in a bloody frenzy.

It was all over, and the majority of the hyenas ripped the two apart methodically as a few ranged out to stand guard. The cackling laughs from the band was barely audible from the side of the cliff, but the sounds were no less chilling.

Talut shook his head and stepped down from stone to stone carefully, it was hard to see his feet past the wide rock. Draag stood on the last paved step, and pulled his eyes off the scene below and waited to help Talut set the next stone.

The cackling of the hyenas continued.

**********

Brug led his hunters back into camp, they all carried four guineas apiece, with Druwez carrying five. They were back much earlier than usual today, having come across the large group of fat birds watering at the creek near the pond. The hunters had pretty much figured out how to hunt these tasty birds, and were so efficient in their method that they had taken almost half the group this time.

The hunters dropped off their kills at the designated cleaning area, Etra and Inca hurried over with Tressie and Ooga right behind them to get the birds cleaned and prepared. Inca and Nezzie already had the ground oven ready to load and light in anticipation of the hunters being successful, they usually were.

Mog-ur's mouth watered at the thought of fresh guinea cooked in the ground oven, the fat birds were rapidly becoming one of his favorite meals. He closed his tired eyes and thought about finding a quiet, shaded place to take a nap, he was tired from lack of sleep.

Brug and Mortan fetched their bundles that held the new bows they were working on from the tent and walked over to a shaded area on the south side of the camp. They washed up and went to work.

Salen and Druwez cleaned up and went over to the lodges to go to work, blending in almost immediately in the flurry of activity there. Salen grabbed a paving stone from the pile, lugging it into the center of the right side lodge while Druwez grabbed a cross brace that was being wrapped with soaked strips of cane.

Mog-ur yawned, then got up off the log and wandered over near the children's enclosure. He spied an enticing spot near the trunk of one of the huge shade trees, and walked slowly toward it. Kneeling down, Mog-ur smoothed the leaves into a long, low mound and sat down in the middle of it. When he lay back, the soft crunching of the brittle, slightly sweet smelling leaves felt good on his weary body.

The last thing he thought, before drifting off to sleep, was that Rug had to be correct. Ursus was watching out for this Clan, he had to be, they could not have found such a perfect home without his blessing and guidance. The thought comforted the Mog-ur, and his nap was not interrupted with dreams.

**********

Brug pulled the open front tunic over his arms, one at a time, settling it over his chest with ease. Druwez adjusted a few of the stalks of camouflage at the center and left side of his back, and patted Brug's shoulder to let him know he was finished. Brug turned and did the same thing for Druwez, then Mortan after that.

Salen and Troog were already dressed in their hunting gear and waited patiently while sipping tea at the main fire. The dawn was still a little while away, and the perimeter guards were still out on station except for Rug, who wasn't really on guard duty, but was outside checking things out anyway as he often did.

Rug dropped in another pair of heating stones he fished out from the glowing embers with cleverly carved pieces of antler to start a new basket full of tea, the hunters had finished off the last of this basket. He watched the hunters get their clothes in order with the interest of the hunter that he was. Rug would have to go out with them soon, his curiosity was definitely piqued, they virtually never came back empty handed anymore. In fact, most days they were back in time to join in at the regular mid day meal.

'We will hunt to the southeast.' Brug signed to Rug who nodded back at him. Brug always let someone know which general direction they would be going, it was one of the courtesies that members of a camp this large needed to remember. As hunt leader, Brug never forgot.

Brug reached down and picked up his cup off the seating log and drained it, then handed it to Rug who had his hand held out and the young hunter led his group out of the camp. He followed a trail through the tall grass past the arc of large trees, and could see the bushes and small trees in the faint light as his eyes became accustomed to the darkness slowly. It didn't take long to reach the scattered beginnings of the woods, and they slowed significantly as they made their way into the trees.

An howl alerted the woods to their presence, hooting loudly several times before taking to wing. The sounds of his wispy soft wing feathers dissipated rapidly as he flew over the hunters and on to the east.

Brug slowed their pace, veering a little more easterly toward the creek. When they slowed they all became more purposeful, the sparse forest swallowed the soft sounds they made, and the hunters became as quiet as their surroundings. In the darkness, and their camouflaged clothes, they were almost invisible as well. Moving like shadows, they became one with the land.

**********

Branag and Danug came out of the tent together, stretching sore arms and shoulders and running their fingers through their long and unruly sleep tousled hair. They saw Rug at the fire, and walked over to join him. Rug offered them tea, and they all sat together on the closest log.

"Brug" and hunters gone?' Branag said and signed as Danug yawned loudly then buried his face in his free hand, almost spilling the tea in his other hand.

Rug nodded, then made a sweeping motion with his left arm in the direction they left. 'They are hunting the creek area to the east.'

Branag grinned, they always did well there. A bit of a honey hole, he thought to himself. Guinea, antelope, suidae, waterbuck, crocodile, they had taken all of this and more from the creek and pond area. The camp was getting short of the thick cane poles, and Branag was going to look for another patch of the sturdy plants to the southwest of the pond. Brug had seen them and told him about them, which was good, he had already harvested the bulk of the canes worth having from around the back side of the pond.

Talut yawned loud enough to get their attention, he was standing just outside the southern tent scratching his hairy chest with both hands. Danug yawned again as Talut came over to them. He sat down with a cup of tea next to Rug, and the four of them drank in silence for a while, enjoying the quiet of the early morning.

The sun rose slowly, first as only a distant, soft glow of pinks and purples. Songbirds sang in the new day, along with a few of the louder, screeching cries of peacocks from off in the direction of the cliff.

More and more camp members got up and around, especially the hungry babies and their still sleepy mothers. They spread out all over, most getting tea and/or a bite to eat from the hanging skin of leftover stew. For some reason, the older folks seemed to consistently beat the younger adults up most mornings, and today was no different.

"Where are you working today?" Wymez asked Branag as a very sleepy Tonie cuddled up to him in his lap. Her bare, skinny legs draped over his thighs all the way to the ground.

"We are going out to find a cane patch that Brug found down the creek to the west." Branag said, looking up at Wymez as he stroked Tonie's wild, wavy, deep reddish blonde hair away from the pretty little girl's face.

"Good, would you look for more of the thinner cane to bring back this time, I need to make new door frames for the new lodges."

Branag grinned as he nodded his head. "How many do you need?"

"Quite a lot, actually." Frebec broke in as he approached from the general direction of the central fire. He sipped his tea, making a face as it was way too hot to drink yet, and sat down on the ground in front of the crowded log.

"I think I figured out a way to make small versions of Wymez' doors to ventilate the lodges." Frebec said as Crisavec came over and sat down next to him with a cup of tea of his own.

Frebec patted Crisavec of the thigh as he continued. "Be careful, the tea is hot. I'm going to try making small, square doors about waist high on the back walls that are attached at the top." He paused, thinking for a moment, then went on.

"We can prop them open to let the breeze through, but it should still be an adequate barrier to keep out the rains."

It got quiet as they all considered the idea that Frebec put forth. Wymez was really the only one to grasp the concept quickly, but Rymar and a few others got it well enough to know that this might be a really good idea—if it worked. They had all worked inside the stifling hot lodges during the heat of the day, any relief would be good.

"No problem, I'll bring back all the small canes I find." Branag said after a while, the tool maker in him seeing this new idea slowly form in his mind.

**********

The young okapi never had a chance. The impatience she showed by leaving her mother and the other two females behind and going on ahead to the pond for a morning drink was her undoing. She watched all around her carefully and sniffed the light morning breeze often enough, but as she made her way through the brush toward the northeastern bank of the pond she made a mistake. She saw something out of place behind a berry covered bush, and instead of fleeing immediately, she walked a few steps to her right to get better look at whatever it was. On her third step, a heavy spear hit her full in the upper chest, spinning her young muscular body a bit farther around to her left.

She was correct, something was out of place behind the bush, and it stood up and threw a projectile at her that she was unable to get away from. The second stab of pain hit her in the upper shoulder about the same time as a third took her in the lower belly. Panic set in quickly and she bounded away from the bush and then shifted directions again, away from another odd sight that appeared to her right.

The okapi was hit with a forth and fifth spear in rapid succession as she went down in a frothing splash into the shallows of the pond head first. Two spear shafts protruding out from her left side snapped loudly as she hit the shallow water. All four of her legs still churned, but they slowed as her life's energy was leaving her faster than she could drown in the freshly muddied water.

Brug and Mortan were the first to get to the rapidly expiring okapi, with Troog and Salen hanging back a little to take up guarding positions as Druwez arrived to join the younger hunters at the waters edge. The okapi's back legs still moved in a slow, abbreviated running motion that slowed more and more until the finally stopped all together. Brug and Druwez waded into the shallow, knee deep water on each side of the now still animal.

Mortan reached up over his shoulder to slip the spear back into the scabbard, and caught a strange ripple coming toward the okapi. Strange because most of the ripples ran away from the odd looking animal. The tip of a spike tipped tail barely broke the surface of the water briefly.

"Brug! Druwez, get out!" Mortan screamed.

Salen and Troog spun around and rushed to the pond without thinking as the crocodile lifted his huge head out of the water just in front of the okapi's mostly submerged head. Brug and Druwez splashed up and out of the water, leaping face first up onto dry ground.

The crocodile churned the water as his mouth opened wide then bit down hard on the exposed neck of the okapi. A sickening crunch rang out as bones shattered under the force of the huge lizards jaws.

Troog pulled a good sized axe from his belt and waded into the water as Salen pulled his heaviest throwing spear from the scabbard across his back. He set his feet firmly as Troog made his way around the back of the okapi slowly.

The okapi lurched forward, deeper into the water as the croc pulled against her neck with a mighty swish of his tail. The back of the beast hit Troog's leg and shifted his balance as he raised the axe high. The croc lifted his head, snorting a lung full of air as his wide nostrils broke the surface, and Troog swung the axe.

The water exploded as the axe head bit deep just behind the croc's head, the crocodile's tail went into a flurry of swishing, splashing water all over and making it hard to see anything clearly. Another sound of breaking bones was heard.

Troog yanked the axe free and swung again, his aim was true. The sharp blade hit in nearly the same place, bouncing off the hard, armored flesh and biting even deeper into the first wound. The crocodile went into a slow motion spin, but the strength of his jaws was vastly diminished by Troog's axe. He lost his grip, and spun off the neck of the okapi, and lilted badly when he tried to attack again.

The approach the croc made was slow and ineffective, and Troog shattered the heavy wedge of sharp flint against the top of his head with a powerful blow. The crocodile flinched and tried to continue with a push and huge splash of his tail, but Troog used the remnants of his broken axe to push the beast past the okapi and toward the muddy shore.

Salen was ready, and he stabbed down with his heavy spear at the exposed underside of the crocodile's neck when it floundered as it tried to change direction against the push of the axe. The sharp flint tip bit in deep, sliding through the tough under skin and into the top of the chest. Salen braced himself strongly with his powerful legs as the croc fought back, trying to spin in the shallow water.

**********

Branag and his work crew found the cane patch. It was right where Brug told them it would be, and it had a lot of the thin diameter cane growing all around the edges of the wide patch. Some of the thinner canes were exceptionally tall, their wide leaves flapping and rustling in the soft breeze.

It didn't take long to cut more cane than the four of them could carry, and after a brief rest they loaded up for the walk back.

**********

Troog carried the croc draped over his wide shoulders. It was not nearly as heavy with the huge head cut off, but it was still a very large animal. The front legs dangled at Troog's waist while the tail almost dragged the ground.

Salen and Druwez had the two sets of tied together spears at the rear of the dangling okapi, while Brug and Mortan struggled a bit at the front. They had cut the okapi's head off to save weight, but the thick neck of the beast had so much good meat on it that they had left it in place.

Even though the animal wasn't yet full grown, she was heavy and bulky enough to put a strain on the younger hunters, especially Mortan. Brug was overly stout and heavily muscled for a young man of the Clan, but Mortan was built much thinner, and was no where near as strong as Brug was. Brug shouldered the majority of the weight, but it was a really heavy load for both of them.

The way through the scattered trees was easy enough to navigate, but the ground often had exposed roots from some of the larger trees. These were easy to trip over, and the men moved rather slowly as they wound their way back toward the clearing. It was slow going with the heavy animals.

**********

Branag and Ludeg had cane piled up over both shoulders, they found out quickly that though they could carry a lot more of the thinner poles, they were also heavier. Jozen and Stolie shared large, heavy loads themselves, and all four of them walked considerably slower with the weight they bore.

They moved steadily to the southeast, back toward the camp in a measured pace. Branag wondered how many trips they would be making today, there was a lot of available cane to harvest if it was needed.

His thoughts were interrupted by a series of snarls and yips from just past the trees and low brush out in front them. The two of them stopped to listen, whatever it was, it sounded like a lot of them.

**********

Brug paused when they reached the edge of the clearing, he needed a break, they all did. He signed to Mortan and then back to the men behind him and they dropped the heavy okapi to the ground with a thud. Troog leaned back and let the crocodile drop off his back and shoulders. The heavy tail slapped the ground and Troog hopped forward a step to keep from being hit with the long body.

Mortan pulled his water bag off his belt and took a long pull from it, water streamed down the sides of his face as he drank thirstily. When he finished, he held it out to Brug who did the same. All of them were covered with sweat from the long haul, and Troog knelt down to rub his sore thighs. Salen and Druwez got a drink and lay down in the short grass and closed their eyes for a moment. They were all tired, bone tired.

Soothed by the sounds of songbirds in the trees and brush all around them, the soft rustles in the grass beyond went unnoticed for a while.

When Troog finally noticed the sounds, they were close, very close and getting closer fast. He sat up quickly, noticing that none of them had taken up a guarding position. This was careless, and Troog was startled that this had gone overlooked. He saw movement through the brush, as he stared harder, a chill went through him as he quickly deciphered what it was he was seeing.

"Dholes!" Troog's deep, staccato voice rang out as he lurched to his feet grabbing his favorite throwing spear.

The rest of the hunters hopped up just as the first six dholes burst through the brush from the east, four more followed as these stopped to eye the men and the bloody animals. Three more appeared from a little north, then two more behind them.

The hunters formed up into a loose circle, spears high and ready.

**********

Branag moved ahead slowly again as he tried to see past the short trees. Whatever it was it was making a lot more noise now, and it was obvious that a fight of some kind was going on. Ludeg pulled back against Branag with the twin stacks of poles on their shoulders, Branag stopped.

"We better get out our weapons to check this out." Ludeg's voice was soft, but had a bit of an urgent ring to it.

Branag nodded his head and lifted up against the tied bundle of long poles to set them off his shoulders. Ludeg did the same thing and the first bundle hit the ground a little louder than either of them would have liked.

Jozen and Stolie were both startled to see the men several steps out in front of them slow down and then dropped their loads, and with a quick glance between them dropped their own bundles. Both of them grabbed spears from their scabbards as Branag and Ludeg did in front of them. They approached slowly and cautiously.

Branag and Ludeg both walked slowly around the fat, short tree. What they saw in the grass covered clearing chilled them.

A young waterbuck turned slow circles, head down and butt high. He was surrounded by a dozen and a half snarling dholes, they darted at him from all directions, staying just out of reach. Both the waterbuck's long, ribbed antlers were dripping blood, and three dholes lay around him in the awkward positions that only a quick and violent death would put them in. The left side of the handsome waterbuck was streaked with smears of blood and torn flesh, and he limped heavily as he continued to turn, trying his best to face the nearest threat.

It was a battle he could not possibly win.

**********

Troog saw the way the dholes reacted to what looked to be the lead female, she was a little older than the rest by the looks of her slightly scruffy looking multicolored coat. With a yip, she pulled out away from the trio to the north, and trotted in an unhurried manner toward the four now taking up a strong position to the east. Troog saw how she slipped past this scattered group, and moved on around the exterior line of rapidly closing circle. The other dholes watched her too, making adjustments to their positioning as she circled.

"Brug!" Watch out for that one!' Troog called out and signed before pointing at the female. 'Let's take her out first.'

Brug watched the large female for a moment, and quickly recognized the importance of throwing the impending attack out of kilter. He could see now that she was indeed the leader, and he could also see that they were just about in a perfect attack formation.

With quick hand signs, he instructed the rest of the hunters to pick a dhole. Brug pointed his spear over toward the lead female who moved with a slinking grace that made her almost hard to follow. He pulled back as he focused on her, trying to anticipate her moves.

Troog followed her as well, turning his body slowly to keep her directly in front of him. He pulled the spear back and let it fly with a powerful throw the instant he heard Brug's loud grunt.

The air was suddenly filled with flying spears, and soon after, the shrieks of wounded dholes. The lead female was hit with two heavy spears, Brug's taking her in the side while Troog hit her in the lower neck. She spun from the dual impact, and the sounds she made chilled the living, both hunters and the other dholes. Only Salen missed entirely, though Mortan's spear was a rump shot and not instantly fatal.

The second wave took flight almost instantaneously. The brush all around them was rife with movement as the surviving dholes broke, escaping back out of sight. The wounded animals lay writhing on the ground, the one Mortan hit in the rump dragging himself toward the safety of the brush by his front legs.

Salen held his hand up as Mortan and Druwez started out after the wounded. "Stop, wait until we know if they are coming back."

Both boys stopped in their tracks, spears high and ready. The movement continued all around them, though it was hard to see any more than glimpses of the dholes. The tension hung heavy in the hot air.

**********

"Wow." Ludeg whispered. "That waterbuck is in a bad spot."

Branag nodded his head in agreement as he watched the handsome animal lower his head and spin at the two dholes that kept trying to get at his back legs. Every time the waterbuck moved his head, the surrounding dholes got braver, lunging at his legs and snapping at them. The bucks legs were pock marked with bloody bite marks, and more than a few of the dholes showed bloody patches as well.

"Let's see if we can go around them." Branag whispered, then pointed to his right. "We could follow the brush line back over there, the winds will favor us that way."

Ludeg watched the subtle movements of the tops of the grass, the winds would have to be coming from that direction, he thought. Oh well, the walk back just got a little longer, he thought.

The two men backed up slowly, being as quiet as they could. They stayed low to the ground until they were well out of sight of the deadly dance of predator and prey. Jozen and Stolie waited until they were close before asking the first of what turned out to be several questions.

**********

Troog watched over his shoulder often as the hunters approached the edge of the scattered woods. Though he thought he had heard something behind them a few times, he had seen no further sign of the pack of dholes.

The pace quickened as the sight of the arc of trees ringing the camp became visible. They were all tired, the loads they carried were heavy and cumbersome the trip back was made even more difficult by having to keep a spear at the ready the whole way.

Troog brought up the rear, and his neck was as sore as his shoulders from looking back as much as he had. The crocodile's dead weight seemed to only get heavier and heavier with every step.

When they were in sight of the camp, several men and women rushed out to help them with their burdens. For the hunters, it was none too soon.

**********

The conversation during the evening meal as darkness fell was centered around the growing problem of the unusually large amount of dholes that seemed to live all around the camp. Every single sighting was brought up and discussed, and it quickly became apparent that there were obviously several different groups of these proficient marauders.

As usual, Wymez and the Mog-ur were questioned extensively about the animals. Both men knew some things about the smaller wolf like canines and some of their habits, but neither was nearly as expert as they would have liked to have been. The main gap in their collective knowledge was that neither man knew where or how they made their homes. They both assumed that the dholes lived in dens like wolves did, but had no direct knowledge to back up the assumption.

The ever continuing questioning was exhaustive to say the least.

**********

"...well, something has to be done." Tulie was saying. "There is no way to keep guards posted during the day with all the work going on."

"None of the work details can spare any people, there is just too much to do." Matera added. "I'm worried about all the stone gatherers now, how could we possibly guard them unless they all walked together from the stone pit?"

"We have seen more than a few signs of dholes everywhere we have gone to gather greens and roots." Brecie piped in. "Especially around the creek and the pond."

"I wonder how long it will be before they come right on into the camp?" Fralie asked, speaking aloud what many in the camp was wondering silently. "What about the children? What if they attacked us here---at night?"

A mild uproar ensued, a long one that took a while to slow. The women of the camp seemed to dominate the conversation for a while, the questions just raised were at the front of all their minds because of the children.

When the burst of loud voices finally wore down, Wymez spoke out with his powerful, low pitched voice cutting through the din.

"Though mostly nocturnal, we have seen that these animals are more than willing to come out in the early mornings and late afternoons." The camp grew silent, hanging on his every word. Wymez took a deep breath, then went on.

"This means that we could possibly set a trap for them during the daylight if we are clever about it."

An odd, eerie silence fell over the camp, the popping and crackling of the main fire sounding louder and more distinct than ever before. A soft breeze rustled the leaves of the trees above. At the far end of the arc of trees on the southwestern edge of the camp, a screech owl cried out in the darkness. The soft, ominous cackling of hyenas blew in from the flats below on the light breeze, far away in the distance. A songbird sang sweetly from the grass beyond the trees, another answered him from a little further out.

"So how do we set a trap for dholes?" Talut's big voice broke the awkward quiet, he grinned broadly as he looked out over the mass of humanity.

Mog-ur studied the gather, watching and listening intently. A problem has been identified, he thought to himself, and now it is open for discussion as to the best way to move forward to solve it. He couldn't help but to compare again these radical differences to the traditional Clan ways. A Clan would discuss this only amongst the men in private, the women would be left out of the conversation all together. Their ways are so different, he considered, but is it not better for all to know of this imminent danger?

The questions came at him faster in his mind than he could sort out and decipher. He paused to listen as Tulie tossed out an idea. Trull-ee is a woman, he thought with a little exasperation, but she is also a respected leader. Mog-ur closed his eyes and breathed deeply to gather his thoughts. He opened them again, watching as Tornec translated. Free-bac sounded off, taking Trull-ee's idea and added a significant twist to it. Dann-uh chimed in right after Free-bac, adding another idea to the possible plan.

Mog-ur watched Torn-ac as he translated the spoken words into Clan signs, growing more intrigued and a little more confused as the conversation continued. Rug and Brug were the next to add to the plan, and their ideas flowed into the conversation easily with Torn-ac's running translations.

At some point, the Mog-ur realized that the efficiency of these combined peoples had to be better than either group could be on their own. He fingered the carved ivory plaque he wore across his chest without thinking about it. It was a gift from these Others, given to him just before the Clan left out on their journey. One side was carved with a stunning likeness of the great cave bear, the other with a wooly mammoth. Beneath the plaque, the dark colored tattoo of the symbol of the Land of the Sun covered the center of his chest. Mog-ur closed his eyes again and was suddenly aware of these deep symbolic caricatures, and how they seemed to co-exist in a harmony he would have never thought possible.

Ursus is pleased, Mog-ur suddenly realized without any hint of doubt, he has to be for this complicated blend of Clan and Others to be this successful. A wave of relief washed over him, catching the old holy man completely by surprise. When he opened his eyes again, he saw the camp of mixed people in a new light. For the first time since he had begun to wonder if Ursus was angry or pleased, Mog-ur felt content. He turned his attention back to the planning of the trapping of the dholes with a new outlook, a confidently serene outlook.


	36. Chapter 26 Part 1

**Chapter Twenty Six**

_**Dholes, Baboons, and the Flats**_

**Part One**

It was all Talut could do to take part in this crazy plan. The very idea of wasting food at any level was hard for him to swallow, but he had no better plan to offer. In fact, if he could get past the part of the plan to waste good meat, Talut had to admit it was as good a plan as he had ever heard of. He walked around the designated area, stopping often to admire what all had been accomplished so far.

The early morning sun was already bright and he felt the heat increasing slowly. The sky was mostly clear, a few wispy, light clouds streaked the bright blue sky. The breeze was light, often gusting slightly, but offering little relief from the building heat of the day. Talut squinted his eyes against the brightness.

Branag and Brenan dragged cut bushes over to the far left side of the tall grass, where Vincavec pointed out where he wanted them placed. The layout was nearly complete, a wide semi-circle of scattered brush, some cut and some natural, closed in around a large patch of short grass. Behind this sweeping line, several steps back, another arc of carefully placed brush filled the gaps between the bushes of the first row.

The landscape looked innocuous enough from the front, Crisavec and Tasher worked their way out from the center of the short grass. Each carried a short branch with the leaves still intact, and used this to brush the ground to comb the bent grass back into shape from the many crushing footprints of the workers. They wiped the branches left and right in front of them, back and forth as they smoothed the grass away from the center of the trap.

A squealing sound from the scattered trees to the left got all the worker's attention.

Brug led his hunters through the last of the trees in a loose line, two sets of spears tied together held a pair of red river hogs. One was still alive and wiggling madly trying to free himself from the braided ropes that held him upside down from the spears. The top of the rear haunch of the hog was dark with blood, and he squealed over and over.

The other pig was quite dead. The hunters carried their catch over to the center of the prepared area in the short grass, meeting up with the rest of the workers there.

"How did you take him alive?" Brenan asked, admiring the well built hog.

"Troog's spear pinned him to the ground." Salen answered with a smile. "He's hurt pretty bad, I don't know how long he will last, but we thought live bait would improve our chances."

The glowing look of pride from the hunters at their odd accomplishment took away the normally serious look they all wore most of the time when decked out in their hunting attire. It was as if whenever they donned the camouflage, they became single purpose hunting machines. Now, though, they looked so satisfied that it belied their serious nature.

**********

The ambush was in place shortly thereafter. Hunters smeared themselves with a strong smelling mixture of the blood and fat of the dead hog to mask their scent, and all hid behind the well placed brush. Makeshift camouflage was added to their sparse clothing, and they all scrunched down low. In all, over twenty five men and women with spears were in place.

Hunters with throwing spears hid behind the front row of brush, while those proficient with the longer ranged weapon, the spear thrower, hid behind the second row. All had many extra spears beside them on the ground, ready.

The wounded hog was doing better than anyone had suspected he could, still grunting and pawing at the ground in an effort to escape. A heavy length of braided rope held him to a short stake pounded deep into the ground by his wounded leg. The pain of pulling against the stake made him squeal often.

Several other short stakes were pounded into the ground all around him. Bloody body parts hung heavily from the stakes just above ground level, and the hogs entrails were scattered around on the short grass. Even from the twin lines of brush, those waiting could smell the strong smells of death, ripening rapidly in the hot sun.

The dholes didn't make them wait very long. The first of the swift hunters came in from the northeast, winding through the brush and short trees at the edge of the woods. Sly and wary, they moved in broken small packs of three to five. There were well over twenty, maybe as many as thirty, and they covered the ground swiftly in their sprint and stop approach.

As they got closer, the wounded hog saw them and began to grunt and squeal even louder. He struggled against his bindings, oblivious of the pain in his wounded upper hip now as the fear overcame him.

The dholes moved in quicker now, almost in range of the waiting ambush. Just as they made a wide sweeping turn to move in for the kill, more dholes came from the east out of the woods. It was another pack, much larger in numbers than the first. They came in a much straighter approach, less wary and ready to challenge the first group for the spoils. There was obviously safety in numbers, and this larger pack was almost fearless in its direct approach.

The first group formed up out in front of the hogs, dropping low to the ground and snarling. The second group broke into a trot, spreading out to appear even more lethal as they came.

The defending dholes backed up nervously, tightening their formation into a more defensive stance. Their lead female stood tall and snarled loudly, baring her teeth and barking between her snarls and growls.

The hog struggled against the rope, kicking up dust all around him.

Two pair of dholes sprinted into the midst of the hammered posts, grabbing at the dangling pieces of meat. They struggled to free the bloody chunks, one succeeding while the other pulled futilely.

The second group of dholes sped up, charging into the defending band. The ground became a blur of motion as the fights began all over the expanse of short grass. Many of the defenders broke ground in retreat, then the spears began raining down on them.

The chaos that ensued was incredible. Dholes fighting and retreating, charging and scattering, all at the same time. Spears falling in all around them, many accurate, many missing. Maimed and mortally wounded canines littered the short grass, snarling fights were taking place all over the field, and fearful animals broke and ran. It was a churning field of bloody confrontation.

Brug led a small group of three hunters, they broke from the cover to the right and sprinted out into the open, partially closing the open front line. From the opposite side, Troog did the same thing. Both bands of hunters closed up the gaps considerably where the dholes had come in, flinging spears and standing their ground.

Dholes dropped all over, and the multiple sounds of the battle covered the grasslands. More and more singles and pairs began to break, turning and scampering off in all directions. In almost all cases, they were met with more humans with their deadly spears. Many were killed or maimed, but a good number got away in the rush.

The skirmishes between the two groups tapered off with the appearance and participation of the humans. Loose groups peeled off in all directions, the noose was tightening. Many fell to the hunter's spears, but many more got away cleanly. The killing field emptied of combatants steadily.

As fast as it had all begun, it was over. The survivors gone, and the grounds littered with the dead and dying. Spears of all sizes stuck out of the ground like a scattered forest after a fire. Wails and screeches, growls and high pitched yips from the wounded were silenced, one animal at a time. The smell of blood permeated the grassland.

**********

The dholes were skinned out and thrown over the edge of the cliff some distance away further southeast from the nearly completed series of ramps and stair steps. Almost forty dholes were killed.

The hyenas took over the remains at the cliff bottom. It was a rather large group, with over twenty adults and several more yearlings. With the vast amount of remains from the dholes, they staked out their territory and defended it ruthlessly against the other predators and scavengers of the flats. It was a bit unnerving to hear them cackling and fighting off intruders, but they were far enough away that the sounds that carried on the winds were soft, mostly.

Talut decided to take the bodies a little further out next time. Having that many hyenas that close to where they worked to complete the way down the cliff was less than desirable.

Two days later, they set up a similar ambush on the northwest side of the camp in the much smaller grass field used often for weapons practice. This time, the hunters weren't able to bring back a wounded animal for bait. The small bongo they killed near the pond provided enough meat and innards to cast a strong smell on the ever present breeze. Talut was happy that only a portion to the bongo was needed for bait, he was rather fond of the tasty, tender meat.

The results were much the same, though the total amount of dholes attracted to the second ambush was a little less than half of what the first ambush had. Still, this time the hunters were a bit more efficient, and over twenty five pelts were taken.

In all, well over fifty dholes would no longer plague the camp and its immediate perimeter. They estimated that they had killed off well over a third of the animals they had encountered. By unanimous consent, they would wait five days and do it all again.

**********

The hides of the dholes were small, but the leather they yielded was soft and pliable. The tanning methods had long since evolved into a combined technique taking the best from both cultures.

With Mamie and Ova taking the lead responsibilities, the hides were worked and cured in no time. With the clothing needs of the camp being much more sparse than before when they lived in a more temperate climate, the hides went a long way. Soon new clothes were made for everyone out of the soft new leather. A little thicker than the skin of a hare, the hides were pretty tough and the clothes that were fashioned from them appeared to be durable enough.

**********

The day before the next planned set of dhole ambushes were to take place, Draag and his crew finished the last of the steps down to the flats below. There would still be more work to be done, but it was easily passable and the decent was no longer a real challenge.

It was quite an accomplishment, and a feast was enjoyed in a celebration in honor of the feat, fueled delectably from a recent crocodile kill. The three huge beasts were taken from the creek at a wide spot that flared into shallow water a little way from the dammed up pond. Hand axes and stiff throwing spears proved to be effective weapons against the volatile crocs. Most of the crocodile meat was cooked in the ground oven, and was melt in your mouth tender and spiced to perfection.

Talut was chomping at the bit to get down to the flats for a hunt, but the dholes were already being seen near camp again. He couldn't argue the need for the thinning of the plentiful predators, but he found it hard to wait to get at all the new animals that populated the flats. So many new tastes to savor, so many new challenges to best.

His wants were shared by many of the others that had been confined to other projects other than hunting. As well as Brug and his small band of hunters had been able to keep the camp in fresh meat, no other hunting trips had been necessary. Hunting was something that was missed though, by most of the men especially, but several women missed it too.

Brenan was anxious as well, but for a different reason. He was wanting to explore the lake and the surrounding woods below the magnificent waterfall. They had been here a long time now, but with all the work to be done to establish this new home, there hadn't really been any extra time to explore. Brenan was feeling a little confined.

The camp was coming right along, four huts and the main lodge were all inhabited now, with two more huts in process.

Brenan, Latie, and Bralut lived in the west side of the main lodge, and Rug, Etra, Cruug, and the Mog-ur occupied the east side. The center of the lodge was a designated 'common' area for anyone in the camp to use, it also served as a place for the sick to be treated. Two drying racks for the various medicinal plants that Latie and Etra had going constantly made for decent screens to help give a little air of privacy within the large lodge.

Living together was a little uncomfortable at first, but having lived in tents for the last year it all smoothed out rather quickly. Mog-ur found himself loving the attention and respect he got from Etra and Rug, and was easily amused with the two baby boys. He spent a lot of time with them as well as little Ooga who came to visit often. It was as close to having children of his own as the old man had ever experienced. He found it all very appealing. His own sleeping platform was set near the back wall under one of the flap windows , while the other beds were set up nearer the front wall.

Family groups were set up in the first two huts comfortably, and more had just recently moved into the last two completed. Troog, Inca, and Bak joined with Danug and a very pregnant Tressie in one hut. Wymez, Jaycie, and her two children Tonie and Tramen joined with Rymar in the other hut.

The newest two huts had Marsie and mate, Martag, along with her three children in one, and Matera, Vincavec, Lumie, and Draag, Ova, Ooga, and little Ina in the other.

Frebec's flap doors had been perfected and the main lodge had a series of four of them spaced equally apart across the rear of the lodge. Another four adorned the front, spaced out on either side of the doorway that also worked well. The first two huts were being fitted for the new window flaps now, and should be completed in a day or two. The last two huts would be next.

The main tents had been moved farther out within the arc of trees in each direction, and were now much more spacious and accommodating. Instead of sleeping elbow to elbow en mass as before, those still within the tents now had room to spread out more comfortably into family groups.

A refuse pit was in progress off to the west of the camp in a natural, rocky low spot near the edge of the cliff. There was a gravel field nearby that would come in handy to layer the pit as needed.

Life at the camp was busy, but the progress they made was easily visible on almost a daily basis. It was rapidly becoming a real home, and this alone instilled a work ethic that was never wavering.

**********

The pair of ambushes went off easily, and another thirty dholes were taken in the same two places as before on successive days. This time, there were not nearly as many attracted to the bait, neither having live animals, but the kill rates were better in both hunts. With any luck, the survivors would move out of this newly dangerous area, or so it was hoped.

**********

The first hunting trip in the flats was planned the day after the second ambush, and there were more volunteers than ever before. It seemed that almost everyone wanted to get in on it. The meeting to plan the hunt began even before the last meal of the day was served. Everyone in the camp attended, or so it appeared.

"...so what we decide to hunt will be determined by what is closest?" Talut asked, his face covered with what looked to be a permanent smile. If he had been any happier lately, he couldn't remember when or why. This was one meeting he had looked forward to for a long time.

"That makes sense, at least for the first hunt." Branag said with a chuckle that seemed to spread to many around him.

"What if the largest herds are the closest?" Danug asked, from his efforts on the cliff path he had seen how the herds of the flats tended to move and congregate. "Some of them have way too many animals to hunt safely. If they were to stampede, they could take us all out."

The mood got serious and quiet for a while, Danug's words carried a lot of weight with all of them. Several in the camp remembered a really close call with a stampeding herd of bison during a journey of not all that long ago. Stampedes were serious business, and none took this very real possibility lightly.

"That is something we will have to be very careful of." Tulie said solemnly. "Very careful."

Another extended period of silence ensued.

"Brug and his hunters will help us all with the new hunting clothes, and we will have to stay together in tight bands." Branag said, giving Brug the status he deserved for he and Mortan's development of the camouflage clothing that worked so extremely well. "We will have to stick to a strict, well organized, well thought out plan."

"Any deviation could be fatal. We will need designated hunt leaders for each individual band until we learn better how to hunt down there." Ludeg added, then grinned as he continued. "I think Brug and his hunters should split up and lead the bands." He looked directly at Brug and Mortan and Druwez on either side of him as he finished.

Talut grinned, and patted Rug's shoulder beside him. "Brug, would you and your hunters figure out a good strategy for the hunt?"

Brug was surprised as he watched Tornec's translation. He looked first to Troog and Salen who both looked very smug and satisfied, then to his partners beside him who looked equally proud and very pleased. Last, he looked over to the Clan leader, Rug, with a questioning look on his face.

Rug nodded, the stern expression he bore could not completely hide the satisfaction in his eyes.

'These hunters will plan hunt if you like.' Brug signed. 'We will need to explore first, then plan hunt.'

Talut beamed at the young Clan hunter and his team, and nodded his head proudly. With the success they had consistently shown, Talut had no doubt that even the first hunt in the flats would be fruitful. He couldn't wait.

Mog-ur sat off to the side with little Ooga in his lap, observing the conversations with great interest. He too was proud that Brug had been honored by he and his hunters being singled out. These Others had a way to keep everyone involved that was astounding, but very effective.

Deegie and Latie held their youngsters, sitting beside him on the seating log. Mog-ur glanced at Deegie, and by the satisfied look on her overly expressive face he could see the intense pride of a mother in her eyes. The mother of a hunter, he thought to himself, she treated Brug like one of her own as much as she did little Brydag. Brug had lived at Deegie and Branag's hearth ever since his own mother, Aba had been killed, and the second major void in the young man's life had been lessened by the love they showed him.

Mog-ur knew now first hand just how powerful the feelings of love for a child could be, and he gave little Ooga a squeeze that she returned, wrapping her arms a little tighter around his neck. He felt a slight flush of warmth at her show of affection, and Mog-ur gently reached over to stroke her thick, wavy hair.

**********

Draag led the hunters down the long, angled path. He had pointed out how to navigate the starting point which required a couple of rather steep initial steps, and a hard turn to the left before encountering another three steep steps to reach the first terrace. It was much more treacherous in the dark, and as well as he knew the way, he took his time. They worked their way down and stopped at the first set of wooden steps, almost a third of the way down the side of the cliff.

'Path gets narrow now, and steep.' Draag signed. 'Will go slow.'

Brug nodded, and followed as Draag took his time on the next angled section of the solid rock path. It did indeed get narrower for a while, and the rock terrace was slick with dew, making their footing unstable often. It took a little while to get to the next landing of log steps, and there were a few slips and slides along the way.

Draag started down again, the terrace doubling back on itself in the opposite direction at a narrow turn. He grasped a braided rope tied to stakes pounded into the rock wall on his right to steady himself as he stepped down three uneven steps and then continued on down the slightly gentler, moderately wider descent.

The path widened even a little more after the turn, then the angle increased for a little while before leveling out again. There was a wide, flat portion of solid rock where the path disappeared into another steep drop off. Draag stopped there, letting the hunters catch up and congregate on the slightly angled outcrop. They were three quarters of the way down, but it was hard to tell in the darkness, everything still looked black all around them.

During the descent, all of them had sporadic feelings of dizziness, seeing only the steep wall rising above them as they made their way down. They all found, in their own time, that by keeping their eyes only on the ground in front of them helped to ease this nauseous, dizzy feeling.

Draag stopped them at another place in the angled terrace that widened out a little before almost disappearing into the steep cliff side. When the rest caught up, he pointed straight down the incline. Here, the incline was much gentler and mostly covered with short grass and an occasional bush.

'Take rock steps rest of way down.' He signed, making a gentle sweeping motion down when he finished. 'Steps are close, but watch footing.'

Draag led them down, the steps were paved with flat rock and easy to navigate. Tall grass between the steps had been cut short, and the path down was pretty easy to follow as the very first glimmers of light glowed off on the eastern horizon. The ground was a little soft and wet at the bottom of the cliff, and the grass got taller at the bottom of the slope and out onto the level ground.

Brug looked out onto the flats, his eyes sweeping from east to west as the others gathered around him. He was glad to be on solid ground, and the odd feelings in his stomach were replaced with the excitement of the task at hand. Brug took a deep breath, the air tasted a little different down here, the smells of animals was predominant. He squinted out over the plains, his night vision faltering in the dim glow of the imminent rising sun.

The herds were no more than dark blotches that ran together with gaps between them. A low, almost constant series of grunts and low pitched bleats came from the flats in a gentle roar of continuous background noise. The songbirds of the flats were busy singing in the new day, well in advance of the arrival of the light.

"Draag" Brug said softy as Mortan handed him a small skin tied up at one end. Brug took it and held it out toward Draag as he continued. 'You wish to scout with us, we brought you hunting clothes.'

Draag froze at the offer, intensely satisfied that they would have thought to bring him hunting clothes and invite him along. He looked to Brug and nodded, wishing he had brought more than his one favorite throwing spear.

Mortan opened the tied leather bag and pulled out an open front tunic with small loops sewn onto it in strategic locations. He helped Draag into it and pulled small tied together clumps of tall and short grass and small leaf covered branches from the bag. He and Druwez slipped the clumps into the loops and arranged the camouflage over the tunic.

Draag pulled and tugged on the tunic until it was hanging comfortably, then looked up as Troog handed him his own scabbard of spears. Draag nodded gratefully and then slipped it over his shoulder, and Troog reached up to help, slipping the strap between the clumps of grass to seat it over his back unobstructed.

Troog stepped back, looking him over carefully. He reached over and rearranged two clumps slightly, then nodded.

Brug led them down the edge of the cliff to the west, staying close to the grassy berm rise that made up the bottom. Salen brought up the rear, watching the darkness behind them often as a rear guard should. They stayed in a loose line, moving quietly and slowly, hunched over to lessen their profiles in the slowly growing light. The dark shadows that was the woods surrounding the lake at the bottom of the waterfall loomed ahead of them in the shadows. The ever growing sounds of the falls loomed ahead, softly beckoning them on.

It was just light enough to see as they reached the outer edges of the woods. The trees and brush on the outer edges of the woods were small and scattered. A variety of grasses grew her, some clumped tall and course, other species short and soft. Brug used this cover to move through and hide their approach. They slowed as they moved into the some of the taller grass that enveloped the edge of the woods, disappearing from sight almost completely.

The low roar of the falls covered any sounds they made as the wound their way through the brush on the outskirts of the woods. Brug and his hunters observed everything around them as they went along. The height and thickness of the various grasses, the shapes of the individual bushes, the leaves on the short trees. As the sun rose slowly, they noticed the colors too, comparing them to the colors of their camouflage. Brug saw animal tracks in abundance, several places looked to be narrow trails from out in the flats leading on to the lake to their right.

Draag followed behind Druwez, carefully observing how these skilled hunters moved together and working to become as one with them. They were all very skilled in their use of stealth, and Draag was impressed at the way they needed so little in the way of hand signs to stay together and move in unison. The way they flared out individually to stay alert to their surroundings was almost uncanny, nothing could approach or encroach upon them without their knowledge. So these are the secrets of their success, he thought as he tried to stay blended into the surroundings as they moved. In his heart Draag wished he was younger and an integral part of this talented crew.

Off to the left, out in the flats, the various herds became more distinct as the sun came up. Dark colored wildebeasts and buffalo were the predominant species stretching out closest to the edge of the woods. A good size group of striped horses grazed on a wide, thin strip of tall, course looking deep green grass between them and the nearest herd of black buffalo. The soft cackling of hyenas came from beyond a stand of thick brush out ahead between two stands of short trees.

Brug ventured a little deeper into the woods to skirt the hyenas, keeping an ear peeled for any sounds of their possible encroachment as he moved quietly through the outer edges of the trees. The trees grew taller and provided a much wider canopy of shade as they moved inland a little farther. Rabbits and hares were all over, scampering for cover when the hunters were spotted, along with chattering, deep grey ground squirrels that dove into small openings in the ground. Tan tree squirrels ran up the trees as easily as they breathed when startled. A black and white striped zorilla lumbered along, stopping to flip and peer under pieces of dead fall to snatch insects and slugs, seemingly unconcerned about the encroaching hunters. The dark exposed soil beneath dead fall was rich with insects and the zorilla ate well.

Something deep in his memories cautioned Brug about getting too close to the serene, striped animal, and he gave her a wide berth as he ventured back to the east towards the flats. She looked up at them with a glimpse of passing curiosity, but went on about her business without fear. A pair of long horned impala broke from where they were feeding behind a short, berry covered bush and scampered away into the woods to the southwest. Their odd gate making for an unusual, pleasant site as they ran a few bounds, then leaped forward with such grace and agility. Just before they disappeared out of sight, they spooked a trio of jackals that scurried away from them into the trees farther to the south.

Brug skirted the edge of the trees, staying on the edges of the long dark streaks of shade, moving amongst the brush as easily as he breathed. Off to the left, through a break in the brush, he could see the striped horses. They were unaware of the hunters, and Brug veered a little more easterly coming closer to the flats behind the cover of a wide patch of deep green brush.

The hunters gathered behind the brush and peered through the tops of the leaves out into the flats. Off to their right they saw a small group of naked mammoth, several adults and two young, grazing in tall, stiff looking grass. Past them, a half dozen black knights grazed at the edges of the tall grass. Farther out in the flats, a group of long necked, long legged, fat birds moved along slowly in a loose group. It looked like they were picking insects from dung piles and hoof broken ground. Two of them fought briefly over a particular pile of dung, flapping their odd, short wings and circling each other before one finally backed off and yielded. More dark wildebeasts grazed in a thin offshoot of a very large herd, and to their left a single cheetah trotted along unhurriedly on to the east.

The hunters watched, and mapped out various hunting strategies to themselves. This was a bountiful land, but the difficulties it represented were enormous.

Brug turned back to his hunters and signed for them to move on. He led them back through the brush until they were again within the shadows of the tall trees, then moved along the edges of the woods back to the southwest. The scattered line of hunters moved through and around the available cover silently, the sounds of the falls to the west diminishing more and more as they went.

Following an obvious game path, Brug came through a narrow break in the trees and into a small clearing. A dozen or so of the oddest, tallest animals he had ever seen were eating leaves from the lower branches of the tall trees. Spotted with deep brown patches over a much lighter tan color, they had extremely long necks and powerful looking front legs and shoulders. Their bright blue tongues pulled leaves off the small outstretched limbs with an easy grace, and they chewed for a long time before swallowing, always gazing around in search of danger. They have to be twice as tall as Talut, Brug thought as he watched the incredible animals sometimes rise up on their rear legs, stretching their long necks up even higher to snatch a bite to eat.

The hunters backed off slowly, disappearing into the shadows and moved quietly back to the west. Brug wound his way on through the trees that grew ever larger and farther apart as the entire area became darkly shaded. Ahead, the screeches of monkeys grew louder, and they came into their view shortly. A large group foraged on the leaf covered ground between the trees, many climbing and lounging in the lower branches. They were in a constant state of chatter, and the noises increased when the hunters were spotted. In a flurry of noise and motion, the ones on the ground climbed up into the trees effortlessly, turning to screech at the hunters as they passed.

As they left the loud monkeys behind, the low sounds of the waterfall grew softly but steadily. Brug glimpsed bits of the shimmering water through gaps in the trees, and slowed even more as they approached. Before long, the huge lake stretched out before them.

To the right, the incredibly beautiful waterfall cast a constant cloud of sparkling mist from about halfway down the side of the tall rock cliff. The soft roar was all consuming, effectively swallowing all other less intense sounds. The magnificence of the sight was awe inspiring in its beauty and tranquility.

They wandered out to the muddy bank of the lake slowly, crouched down and well hidden in the sporadic waves of tall, thin clumps of grass. The lake was huge for what parts of it that they could see of it, and the blue, still water clear enough to see through to the bottom close up. A very large turtle surfaced just out in front of them, his wide flat body and slightly ridged back rolling up to the surface of the still water. He lifted his neck high up above the surface and looked around before taking a deep breath and slipping back under with a small wake of ripples following him.

A splash on the surface to their right got their attention, it was followed by two more as natures laws of survival played out before them. Big fish eating little fish, Draag thought to himself, it's the same everywhere. He watched the surface disturbed again and caught the briefest glimpse of a silver tail fin in the splash.

A huge, mostly black eagle soared down from the heights above the lake and leveled out before diving down again. His huge talons dropped into the water with a splash and he beat his wings furiously to regain his altitude, a long silver fish writhing in his grasp. The legs and belly of the eagle were white with black dots covering every bit of his underbelly but his light colored feet tipped with long black talons. He bore the weight of the long, stocky drum with ease and carried it across the lake disappearing past the trees on the far banks.

A pair of eyes a hand width apart popped up in the shallows to their left, then another pair surfaced a little bit behind them. Six or seven much smaller pairs of eyes came up between the two larger sets very close to the shoreline. Barely a finger width apart, the hatchlings stayed in the relative safety of the shallows. In the deep they were the prized prey of many animals and fish, including their own parents after a short grace period of only a few days.

Well out in front of them in the deep water, another odd creature broke the surface, followed by several more all around him. At first they appeared to be more crocodiles, but it quickly became obvious that these sets of eyes and smooth, bluntly rounded heads were much too large to be crocs. They had slick smooth heads with big dark eyes and wide flaring nostrils that spewed water before they took another hugely deep breath and submerged again one by one. Whatever they were, they were big, the rolling swells left on the surface as they went under was a testament to that.

Across the lake toward the falls, a large group of baboons played in the shallows. Splashing around and pulling small plants and shells from the bottom, they looked to have not a care in the world. The huge greyback sat on a wide rock, watching out for the rest of them with a keen, wary eye.

Everywhere they looked, they saw more.

Off to the left, well past the crocodiles, a short, rather stocky animal splashed in the muddy shallows. Dark in color with a long, flat topped head with a pair of huge, upswept tusks that protruded curling out from the outer edges of his mouth, he was quite formidable looking despite his small stature. He had a long thin tail with a fat tuft of dark hair at the end that continuously twitched and curled as he searched the bottom for edible plants.

A huge gemsbok appeared on the banks a little further back from the warthog, approaching the water tentatively. His magnificent upswept, flaring horns had ridges running all the way up to extremely sharp tips as he looked all around before dropping his head to drink. The black and white patterns of his face stood out in stark contrast to the light tan of his body with the single dark strip that ran the full length of his spine and long tail. The back of his legs were black also, fading out into bright white feet. This guy was huge, and though wary and well aware of his surroundings, it didn't look like much scared him.

Brug turned back, making his way into the deeper shadows and called his hunters around him with a slight hand movement.

'With all we've seen, we can go back now.' He signed while Mortan softly spoke his words aloud. 'Stay alert, we have seen very few predators, but with all the game around they must be here somewhere.'

Draag almost dropped his jaw at Brug's words of wisdom. Having been unable to hunt with the young man much since well into the time this enormous journey had begun, he was constantly surprised by his ever growing acumen and expertise. The thought of hidden predators had occurred to Draag earlier, but he had to admit to himself that he hadn't thought about them for quite a while now.

The walk back out to the cliff took just as long as the walk in had taken. The hunters stayed in full stealth mode, and speared three rabbits, two ground squirrels, and a pair of long eared hares before they even got out to the grass flats.

Draag was constantly watching the subtle methods of movement and the deadly techniques the young hunters used. This was one talented, deadly crew, he thought, observing the incredible efficiency of this bunch. They moved so easily together, so much as one big, extended hunter that Draag had to pay rapt attention to blend in with them effectively. The camouflage clothing needed a little work to blend in better with the slightly different colorings that were most common here, but even with that they were definitely hard to see.

At the edge of the woods, Druwez spotted a pride of lions hidden pretty well in the knee high grass out to the southeast. They weren't all that far away, and the hunters kept watch on them as they moved along the base of the cliff back to the rock steps. The huge male sat up and watched their every move, his mane was wide and wild and reddish-brown in color as he sat unafraid in a small open clearing in the light green short grass. Well over a half dozen fully grown females surrounded him, and there were a pair of cubs that bounded around the male playfully.

When they finally reached the stone steps, Draag took over the lead. Druwez and Salen brought up the rear, both of them gazing up at the steep cliff in awe. It looked even higher from the bottom, and now that it was light, even more intimidating.

The rock terraces were dry and much easier to walk on as they climbed back up the steep cliff. In the daylight, the massive amount of work that went into building the path was much more obvious and impressive. They took a brief break at the second set of wooden steps, about halfway up the cliff. From here, the panoramic view of the flats below was incredible.

Though they took their time, it didn't take all that long to get back to the top, and every one of them was glad to be back to the relative safety of the plateau they now called home. Differing strategies ran through their minds of how to effectively hunt the various animals they had seen. For every animal, a slightly different method was deemed necessary, it was a lot to think about. For these hunters, though, there was not much they would rather think about anyway.

Once back on the plateau, they walked easily down the trail that the cliff workers had established. Songbirds welcomed them back, with slightly different songs than the birds of the flats. It was a welcome sound that soothed them all.

Occasional whiffs of delectable simmering stew reached them well before they could see the camp, but as hungry as they all were, they still took their time. There were still too many wonderful things running through their minds to hurry.

For these hunters, they had just glimpsed a large slice of pure paradise.

**********

The sun was far past its prime, and well into its slow, gradual descent through the heavy clouds. The air was much cooler than usual, the rolling cloud cover had blown in all during what was normally the hottest part of the day. The heavy, cool air smelled of imminent rain, and billowing, dark colored thunder heads were slowly forming.

Brug pulled tighter tension on the bow, sighting down the shaft of the arrow onto a pair of old skins tied together and packed with dried grass. The target was almost as big as Brug's chest, and fifteen paces away. The bow twanged as the arrow released, the flight path was weak though, and it fell well short of the target and hit the ground with a loud 'crack'. Brug and Mortan both grimaced, and walked out side by side to retrieve the arrow.

Their fears were well founded, the flint point had shattered against a small rock barely sticking up from the ground. Mortan examined the broken point with a frown, but the rest of the arrow was undamaged and reusable. They turned and walked back to the shooting area where the rest of their gear was scattered in neat piles.

'Need shorter string.' Brug signed, then set the end of the bow on the ground between his feet. He pulled the top of the bow to his left, the center of the bow resting against his thigh. With a pull, the bow flexed and Brug pulled the loop of string free from the top of the bow. He pulled the loop off the other end and handed the string over to Mortan.

Mortan dug through a small bag he pulled from his belt, fishing out several small bundles of braided vine. He picked one and untied the small knot, then stretched it out and held it against the bow string in his other hand. It was half a finger length shorter, and he held it out to Brug who nodded.

As Brug was fitting the small loop over the top end of the bow, three men approached from the sparse woods behind them. Druwez led the way, with Salen and Brenan following close behind him. All three of them carried large bundles of different colored grasses and small leaf covered twigs. The grasses varied in color, length, and overall texture. The three of them had gone back down to the flats and gathered these grasses and sprigs from the brush at the edge of the woods. The natural camouflage from the distinct area where they were to hunt was vastly superior in coloring as compared to the grasses and leaf covered sprigs of the plateau.

"This should be enough to outfit at least the first group of hunters." Druwez said while he signed with his free hand. Then tossed the two bundles he had onto the ground.

"Will we still go out if it rains?" Brenan asked.

"That will be up to Draag and Talut." Mortan replied, signing as he spoke. "I'd go in the rain, no problem."

'It would be hard to carry very much back up the cliff if trail wet." Brug signed, then looked down and pulled tension against the bow again against its natural curve. The muscles in his arm flexed as he fitted the loop of the braided vine into the carved groove at the top of the bow. He twanged it with his thumb a couple of times, listening to the tone. As many experimental tries as the two hunters had gone through so far, every bit of information was noted. The pitch of the string, the amount the bow flexed, the amount of effort it took to pull it back, all these things were adding to the working knowledge of how to make this new weapon work.

Brug lifted the bow up and into position, took a deep breath, then pulled back on the string. It still felt a little weak, and he let off and pulled it back again. He glanced at Mortan while he set the bow back down to de-string it again, and Mortan gave him a knowing nod. The braided vine needed to be shorter yet.

Brenan and Salen sat down to watch, while Mortan fished through the bag for another bowstring. Druwez pulled a small handful of grass from the darker green bundle and set it across his lap, then pulled a handful from the lighter green bundle and set it with the first. He mixed the strands until he liked the color combination that the two grasses made together. Druwez then tied a thin strip of leather around the bottom, half the width of his hand from the end, the stalk it created was as fat as his thumb.

The next bowstring was a full finger length shorter than the last, and Brug had a bit of a hard time flexing the bow against the natural curve enough to get it strung. When he picked it up and pulled tension on it, the muscles in both arms rippled from the strain. Brug liked that, and he pulled it back a few times getting the feel of the power it took to pull his right hand all the way back to his cheek.

Mortan was grinning as he handed Brug an arrow, and the look on Brug's face was full of excited apprehension as well. Brug knocked the arrow carefully, then took a deep breath before pulling the weapon up. When he pulled tension on the bow, it felt really good and he sighted on the target and let the arrow fly. There was a sudden twang that was quickly followed by a pop.

Brenan and Salen both gasped as the arrow flew with blinding speed, and buried itself deep into the grass filled target near the top. The target rolled over from the impact, and the shaft of the arrow quivered as one of the two rear feathers dangled loose, flitting in the gusty breeze.

"Wow." Salen said with an astonished look on his face.

"Wow is right, Brug, can you do that again?" Brenan asked, he was in awe of what he had just seen. Or more correctly, had almost seen. Brenan had lost sight of the arrow shortly after it let the bow, it flew so fast he missed it hitting the target.

Mortan jogged over to the target. He pulled the arrow free and propped the bundle back up, then hurried back. The arrow was undamaged, and he handed it over and stood back a step or two behind Brug as he prepared to shoot again.

Brug set up, then pulled back again on the taught string and aimed. The twang of the arrow leaving seemed even louder this time, and the arrow flew just as fast. This time Brug missed, the arrow sailing over the top of the target and disappearing into the short grass beyond. Brug cocked his head, he had not let the string go smoothly and he figured that probably had something to do with the errant flight of the shot.

Mortan handed him another arrow, this one had a slightly larger flint point, and the shaft was a little longer too. Brug set up and fired again. He paid close attention and was much smoother in his release, and the bowstring twanged then popped loudly against the thick piece of bison skin tied to his left forearm.

The arrow sped through the air in a slight arc, hitting the bottom of the target with a satisfying thud. Mortan patted Brug on the shoulder, his eyes wide and his smile broad.

A sudden, loud crack of thunder startled them all, rolling over them from the southeast.

Mortan ran out to fetch the arrows and the target while Brug de-strung the bow. Brenan and Salen grabbed up the bundles of grass and twigs, and Druwez finished tying off another mixed grass stalk. They scrambled into the sparse woods and gathered under a low limbed tree to get a brief respite from the driving rains. The gently curved bow was passed from man to man, and a long discussion ensued. Questions and answers, detail after detail, the weapon was dissected over and over.

Having not spent much all that much time around Brug and Mortan while they had worked so diligently on the bow, the other men were more than impressed. They were totally interested in what all the young hunters had learned so far. Brug and Mortan shared their knowledge freely, giving complete and detailed answers to the series of unending questions. Everything from the type of wood and direction of the tight grain, to the proper thickness and number of strands of the braided bowstrings were cross examined. The older men were amazed at the in depth knowledge that Brug and Mortan had already amassed. Druwez had helped them quite a bit during the long period of development, but didn't have near as much direct experience as the other two had.

The bow itself had a long, gentle curve to it, and was mostly flattened from one end to the other. The handgrip section at the center was slightly thicker, and then it narrowed rather abruptly, before tapering off towards the swooping ends much more gradually. The entire bow was extremely smooth, having been scraped and rubbed with sandstone extensively. Two notches were carved into the ends, grooves for the string to fit into securely. At the top of the handgrip, a small bump was carved to act as a support for the shaft of the arrow to rest on. The hand grip had four fine, shallow grooves carved all the way around it to improve the grip of the shooter.

But there was still so much left to learn. This became obvious quickly, neither Brug nor Mortan had any problem at all to answer, 'I don't know—yet'.

Many more questions centered around the techniques used to make the arrows. Discussed from one end to the other and back again, every aspect of the thin projectiles were gone through. The successes and the failures, the strengths and weaknesses, shapes and desired thicknesses of the flint points. By far, the greatest weakness was the flint points. They were apt to shatter rather easily, sometimes without even hitting anything hard.

Brenan and Salen both offered their help to continue the development, and Brug and Mortan couldn't have been more pleased. Both of them were skilled tool makers, and several aspects of the bow, strings, and arrows were slow and ponderous to make. Brenan thought about trying to make arrow points from the glossy black stone that Wymez had, wondering if it would be better, or just more brittle than flint.

By the time they were ready to go, it was pouring, and they were all completely soaked by the time they got back to camp. With the most recent success of the weapon though, none of them minded in the least.

**********

The rains continued steadily for three more days, and the hunt down in the flats was indefinitely postponed. Those chosen to participate in the first hunt were noticeably restless, trying to stay busy elsewhere to keep their ever growing anticipation in check. Many hadn't gone out on an organized hunts in many moons, and all of them were anxious.

The path up and down the cliff was tough enough to traverse when dry, and Talut didn't want to risk it when wet with a full sized group of hunters. He and Draag had made several trips up and down, trying to fix some of the slickest spots by sprinkling generous amounts of small diameter gravel. It helped, but not much, there were just too many small natural springs that appeared and drained out onto the terraces. Small patches of bright green algae and deep brown and lighter tan molds tended to grow where the springs broke through, and these areas were dangerously slick. The two men used stone scrapers to remove the larger patches, but a lot of it was hard to get to, growing in the cracks and crevasses of the flat rock walkway.

At two of the narrower places, they added more braided rope tied to stakes for handholds. This was time consuming and tedious, finding places to pound in the short stakes to tie the rope to was difficult at best, almost impossible at worst. Draag often used small wedges of rock to pound into the wider cracks to firmly secure the stakes. It was all slow going in the constant rain, but the two men stayed at it, making improvements in the path in many places.

Draag was the first to notice the baboons. A large family group was congregated to the eastern slope near the bottom of the cliff. Several of them had climbed up into the jagged rocks above the grassy knolls that sloped back down to level ground. There was a lot of sporadic greenery where they worked and scavenged, but they were a little too far away to see much detail.

Both men decided that it would be a good idea to examine the area later. Neither had more than their long spears with them, and baboons were known to be aggressive when approached.

**********

Frebec's flap windows worked rather well at keeping most of the rain out, except when the wind blew too hard and they had to be closed most or all of the way against the sporadic driving rains. Even when opened only a little bit, the flaps allowed the cool breezes to flow through the huts, making for a much more comfortable environment. He and Wymez, along with Brenan and Rymar had a system of building the window flaps and doors, along with the mounting frames in complete units separately. They prefabricated them at their little cane working lean-to area and so the installation process got quicker and easier. The more they produced, the easier it all got as they learned new tricks along the way, working out some of the more time consuming parts of the construction processes.

Construction on the latest two lodges continued through the sometimes driving rains, with naked people making slow but steady progress. The walls were almost all up, but the roof supports and the cane matting was all still in process. Half the roof supports were up on the left side hut, and most of the woven mats were ready for both huts.

The pole support holes for the next two huts were dug while the ground was soft and waterlogged, and the poles set and packed with fresh, sticky black mud of which there was an abundance. Branag and Danug spent most of their time digging the holes and setting the poles, and stayed covered in mud most of the time. Tathan and Thorec helped to set the poles, pounding the slick mud and small rocks to secure them as straight as possible.

The central paving out around the main fire and out in front of the huts stood up well, allowing mud free walking for the most part. The narrow gaps between the stones allowed the excess water to drain on through, but outside the pavers the ground stayed muddy and slick. More paving was going on, creating a wider path over to the ground oven, and another ground oven was in the process of being dug out and lined. Etra and Nezzie wanted another oven to better feed this large camp, and their were plenty of people willing to dig in the mud to make It happen. The promise of more oven cooked meats was enough to entice more than a few helpers.

The original lean-tos needed some repairs, and a few more were built to give better shelter around the main fire where people liked to gather. The new lean-tos were a little wider and their pole frames anchored a little deeper into the soft ground.

The main lodge became the congregation center for the smaller children and babies. Spacious and open, with dry paving stones covered with layers of soft furs, it was a happy safe haven for them.

Mog-ur spent a lot of time inside the main lodge during the rains, and he amused himself for hours on end at the antics of the children. Even the Clan young were especially cute, these thoughts worried him, they definitely had a female bend to them. Ever since he had joined with Etra's memories so long ago he had occasionally been plagued with the softer, female thoughts and ideas. Mog-ur scowled, then walked outside, leaving the children and these odd thoughts behind.

**********

On the forth day after the rainstorm began, it started breaking up. The first break occurred shortly after the first meal, and though it rained again shortly thereafter, the afternoon was predominantly dry. By evening, the vast majority of cloud cover had blown on through, and the camp was rewarded with a clear sky full of bright stars and a bright crescent moon.

The groundwork for the first hunt in the flats were laid out under the awesome canopy of glistening stars.

**********

Draag led the long line of hunters over the entry steps of the path at the top of the cliff. The sheer drop off was veiled by the darkness, but it was felt by every one of them as they stepped down onto the first series of steps. It was an odd, ominous feeling to know how far you would fall if you missed a step or stumbled. Especially since you couldn't see the bottom.

Talut and the other two men that had carved the path spread themselves out between every four hunters, with Ranec taking up the rearmost position. This way, they could give advice to those behind them on the intricacies of the steep, narrow path. The method worked well, but it was slow going.

It was still dark when they reached level ground, and Brug took the lead quickly following along the bottom edge of the cliff towards the woods to the west. Under the cover of darkness, they moved in a hurried, but controlled pace. They reached the edge of the first scattered bushes without incident. For a group as large as they were, they moved surprisingly well together in the darkness. There were almost twenty five hunters in all.

Brug slowed the long line as he started maneuvering them through the brush that steadily grew in thickness. When they reached the beginning of the outer rim of trees, he slowed even more and turned back slightly southeast. As they neared the outer edge of a small clearing, Brug slipped into full hunting approach. All those behind him did the same, moving low to the ground and as quietly as possible. The ground was still damp from the rains, and their footfalls softened considerably by the wet leaves and grasses.

Slowing up, Brug made a hand gesture, first to his left, then another to his right. Mortan moved out farther to the east, followed by six hunters, while Druwez did the same to the west. Brug waited until they were where he wanted them, then made a swooping motion with his spear and started forward again. Salen and Troog split the remaining hunters between them and followed Brug in a widely spaced double file line.

A pair of ground squirrels chattered at Mortan from off to the east, and several songbirds sang out in the flats beyond. There were no other sounds around them, and Brug slowed the pace even more to try and keep it that way. They continued on.

An odd sounding bird like whistle froze Brug in his steps. He turned and watched Druwez make an elaborately exaggerated set of signs that were hard to distinguish in the near blackness. Too hard, Druwez was just past the limits of his vision and he didn't understand so Brug grunted in a series of low pitched imitation hog sounds. Druwez was quiet for a bit, then answered with a whistle of a different bird's song. Brug understood, and turned back toward Mortan and made a low pitched chattering sound. He then made a few signing gestures to Salen and Troog behind him on each side.

Slow movement began within each of the four groups.

Mortan and his hunters scattered out and settled in amongst the nearby cover, taking their time and getting comfortable. The hunters behind Brug all did the same. Though almost out of sight to the west, Druwez and his men settled in to wait as well. Brug moved up to a wide, short bush near a tree with a wide, gnarly shaped trunk and dropped silently to his knees.

Judging by the ever growing sounds of the songbirds all around them, dawn was still a short while away.

**********

Whip-or-wills sang, the strong, simplistic melodies echoing in from out in the flats. Their odd songs answered and repeated from all around the wide expanse of the grasslands. Field larks and dark feathered cowbirds joined in, the rhythmic symphony of birdsong spread and grew in its anticipation of the imminent dawn. From the tops of the trees farther to the southwest, near the lake, the wailing, ominous sounding, crying calls of the peacocks rang out loudly and clearly. The random sounds of bawling calves in search of an early morning treat varied from specie to specie from the huge herds.

Brenan wanted to shift his weight off his right leg. Stiff and sore from being absolutely still for so long, his calf was starting to cramp up. The bush he had hunkered down to hide behind was wide, but a little short, and he had to bend over to stay out of sight. When he first made himself comfortable behind the bush, Brenan had moved around a little at a time to see how much he could get away with without making any noise. It didn't prove to be very much, the dead leaves on the ground around him had dried out from the recent rains and rustled easily.

I should have scraped them away when I had the chance, he thought to himself as the muscle in his calf began to tighten up on him again. It had been a while since he had gone out on a real hunt, and this minute, but rather important detail had just somehow escaped him. As he thought about it, Brenan decided he wouldn't let it ever happen again. He reached down and rubbed the stiff lump protruding slightly from his calf, it hurt.

Brug's sharp eyes penetrated the dim light and focused on the spotted, long neck well before the first glow of the rising sun. His night vision was good, but it was the ever so subtle movements and a single, soft snort that had drawn his original attention. Even in the scant light Brug was able to see movement of any kind, and he had a good idea of the whereabouts and the total number of potential prey. As the sunlight slowly grew, he was able to survey the clearing completely, confirming and adding to his educated guesses.

Three smaller, shorter necks stuck up near the center of the small clearing, surrounded by four considerably larger adults. Off to the southwest edge of the clearing, another pair of adults lounged, already up and eating from low hanging branches. Those animals in the center of the clearing were still laying down, the adults lovingly preening their young with their long blue tongues.

Brug slowly lowered, then turned his head to his left, then back to his right. Everyone was in place, well hidden and almost completely invisible in their newly outfitted camouflaged clothing. Brug had his normal band of hunters well placed and strategically interspersed within the ranks of the rest of the band. Even though he was confident, he found that he was surprisingly a bit nervous. It was the first real hunt he had led with anyone other than his small band of regular hunters. Besides, Rug, Branag, and Talut were all here, and Brug wanted to show them the responsibilities they gave him as hunt leader were well placed.

A ground squirrel came flitting through the short grass and almost touched Brug's knee, passing by without seeing the hunters on the front row. The squirrel ran headlong into Brenan's foot, jumping back suddenly and chattering as he fled toward the thicker brush to the northeast. Brenan's eyes were as wide as his smile. He understood how well they were all hidden for the normally astute and very keen eyesight of the squirrel to have been taken by surprise so deep within the ranks of the hunters. The pain in his leg was forgotten with the rising sun.

Brug judged the amount of growing daylight, he was ready. He waited patiently until the adults in the center of the clearing began to get to their feet, it was exactly the diversion he wanted. Brug then tapped the shaft of his spear twice in rapid succession with the carved bone handle of his knife. The sound carried easily, but while two of the adult giraffes glanced his way, Brug, nor any of the others were spotted.

One long, deep breath later, with a sudden rustling from all the way around the wide semi-circle of the northern edge of the clearing, hunters stood and the spears flew. The timing of the assault was carried out by Brug's well placed hunters, carefully following Brug's signal. With the vast amount of hunting experience they had with each other, the timing of their sign to jump up and let fly was uncanny. Though it was a slightly staggered wave, the spears all hit within two heartbeats of each other.

An unlucky young giraffe nearest to the edge of the clearing was targeted by six different hunters. He was in the process of standing when the first of the spears hit him in a full, rapid fire broadside. His wailing grunts as he fell hard on his side carried in the quiet of new day. Every giraffe in the center of the clearing was hit with at least three spears, most more. One of the two at the southern end of the clearing was hit twice with spears from the spear throwers, the other was the only one to get away completely unscathed.

Two adults in the center tried to get away on shaky, unsteady legs. One made it three bounds before falling on her own, the other was hit with two more spears as she leaned down to nose her sprawling young and crashed face first into the grass. The large male to the south got away clean, the smaller male with him tried to follow with two spears sticking out of him. He was slow and unable to keep up with the uninjured male.

Hunters encroached the clearing with spears held high, Talut took a powerful three step approach with Danug beside him and both men threw a spear each at the fleeing male. Talut's spear flew just wide, but Danug's spear struck deep in the base of the giraffe's wide, thick neck. The animal shuddered as it bounded once hard to its left, then kept on going, leaving splotches of bright red blood in its wake.

Rug and Troog waded through the writhing bodies, slitting throats to put the dying out of their misery along with Frebec. Brenan and Salen met up at the farthest adult to the southeast, finishing off the badly wounded giraffe quickly. Talut, Danug and Branag gave chase to the male. All three of them were surprised at the distance the full grown animal had put between them, they had no shot at him at all he was out of range so fast. They gave up and followed the blood trail of the wounded male.

The three men scattered out an arms width apart and moved off together, the deep hoof prints easy to follow in the soft ground. Each time a blood spot was spotted, it was pointed out and they continued the search with an added bounce in their steps.

The trail led back toward the lake through the trees that grew thicker and closer together as they went. The giraffe was found sprawled out in ankle deep grass in the shade of the thick trees a little past a thick stand of brush in a small, narrow clearing. He was quite dead, with two broken spear shafts jutting out of his right side. Danug's spear was still whole.

It was done, the first real hunt in the flats had yielded eight animals.

Talut was surprised when he and Danug grabbed the back legs of the large male and found that they couldn't move him—at all. Branag laughed at them, then walked all the way back to the clearing to get some help. These were large animals, and much stockier and heavier than they looked. Branag wondered how they would be able to get them all back up the narrow trail of the cliff as he walked. He recruited Troog and Brenan, and the three of them returned to the fallen male. With five of them working together, they got busy.

Behind them from the west, unseen, a pair of dark skinned hands with grey streaks smeared on them parted the scraggly top leaves of a short, fresh growth tree. Deep brown eyes from a streaked, painted face watched every move the large men made. He never made a sound, and was not noticed, though he watched them until they were gone.

The five men got themselves organized. They managed to drag the bulky male back into the clearing by tying two spears each to the back legs, and lining up to pull him along over the short grass. It took a while to get him back, and they were all sweaty and tired by the time they got to the small clearing.

Guards were already posted on the perimeter, and the butchering had begun. The skins were taken first, then laid out to pile fresh cut sections of meat on top of them. With as much meat as there was, it was all cut free from the heavy, thick bones and the choicest pieces were taken first. Tongues, noses, and thick slabs of meat from the long necks of the animals piled up quickly. Haunches and long strips from the back straps were next, along with the large slabs from the from the front shoulders. Bladders and stomachs, along with long, squiggly lengths of small intestines were added as well.

The first skins from the younger animals filled up quickly and were tied off with the long, thin leg sections. The adult skins took longer, a lot longer.

The first sounds of hyenas cackling came from the east , but they were followed shortly thereafter by the yipping of dholes from the woods to the southwest. The perimeter guards fell back well within the clearing and took up defensive positions. From the flats to the southeast, a single lion roared. The second roar was much closer than the first. A single jackal sprinted into the clearing, took a quick look around and was gone as fast as he had come.

The hyenas showed up first, the lead female bringing a half dozen adults into the clearing from the east and scattering out into a wide line. The snarled and yapped, pacing back and forth, slowly encroaching on the three guards that stood between them and the carnage beyond. The smell of so much blood embolden them, and three on one side of the line took a few rapid steps forward to test the resolve of the odd looking humans.

Draag, Tornec, and Salen waved their spears, making themselves look as wide and menacing as possible. Then the two men rushed at the hyenas, taking three quick steps and shouting at them. The hyenas backed off hurriedly, then spun around and regrouped, yapping and growling loudly. Five more loped into the clearing, and as they reached the others, they all started forward together.

Draag was the first to throw a spear, but there were two more in the air before his took the first hyena in the chest. One missed, the other caught a hyena in the flank as it moved forward, head high and tail low in the usual stance of an angry, aggressive hyena. The next three spears were all accurate, and the hyenas broke ranks and backed off, gathering again at the edge of the clearing. Three hyenas half crawled, half dragged themselves across the short grass, trailing long streaks of blood in their wake. The other two were injured too badly to do more than whimper and whine as they lay dying.

The second approach of the hyenas was a snarling attack on the nearest two wounded, and the three men stayed wary, but allowed them to drag the farthest two off. The rest of the pack of hyenas came into the clearing, and a melee ensued as the two wounded were devoured. Several fights broke out during the frenzied feeding, and when the other wounded collapsed, three hyenas rushed out to him and fought over his prone carcass.

The sounds were very unsettling to the hunters as they continued to work over the giraffes, and they all hurried as fast as they could. The guards stayed alert, their eyes everywhere at once.

Draag and Salen stood guard at the two dying hyenas while Tornec retrieved the spears. A pair of overly aggressive hyenas ran a few steps at them, but backed off when the two men jabbed their spears at them. They held them at bay until Tornec wrenched the spears free and they all backed off together.

The dholes arrived with a much less subtle approach. Fifteen adults broke into the southeastern edge of the clearing in a loose grouped pack, yapping and barking loudly. Talut and Danug didn't hesitate, firing off a pair of spears each as soon as the small canines were clear of the brush. Three were hit, two badly. The encroachment was broken off, dholes scattering out as they retreated, disappearing again back into the brush.

A few minutes later, the dholes came in again from a little further west. This time they hit the clearing in a dead run. Talut and Danug were ready for them, along with Brenan and Frebec. All of them threw spears in rapid succession, and five more dholes were hit. The dholes broke ranks and split off into two groups and headed back out away from the middle of the clearing. The men got off another spear apiece, Danug got off two. Three more dholes dropped, the rest fled. Spears were gathered, and the dholes were left where they fell.

By the time the bundles of meat were all tied up and set out between poles to carry them back with, the hyenas returned with slightly increased numbers. This time they claimed another of their own and two of the dholes that were the farthest away. The dholes appeared once more, this time they had circled around and come in behind the hyenas. The skirmish was brief and loud, but the ferocious hyenas drove them away in the end.

Tornec, Druwez, and Mortan flanked the line of men carrying the heavy loads between them to the east side. Frebec, Ranec, and Draag guarded the west side. As they left the clearing, the hyenas and the dholes joined into a high pitched battle again over the massive amount of spoils left behind.

Brug struggled under the weight of the pole on his shoulder, but did his best to lead them through the scattered trees following the path of least resistance. Brenan behind him on the same pole was taxed as well. The swinging weight of the skin full of meat made it hard to walk straight anyway, but Brug was constantly changing course, weaving through the trees which made it even harder. The heavy pole dug painfully into the top of their shoulders, and both men carried a spear in their left hands while holding onto the pole with their rights.

**********

A sudden roar made everyone look back. Two more followed, and the distant sounds of a major skirmish ensued as a pride of lions laid claim to the killing grounds. Hyenas cackled and dholes yapped, but the growls from the lions dominated. It wasn't too hard to imagine the outcome.

**********

Brug stopped at the edge of the brush to allow a few moments rest. The cliff loomed before them in all its rocky grandeur, with several thin, sparkling springs glistening in the morning sunlight. The sounds and mists of the waterfalls in the distance to their left was soothing to their senses, even though it made it hard to hear anything else clearly over the well muted roar. The ever present rainbow seemed to absolutely glow as it started from the mist and traveled well up the cliff side.

Water and dried meat was passed around, and everyone but three guards took a well needed break. The breeze was warm but sporadic, but served well to cool them as it blew in over their glistening, sweat covered bodies. They still had a good way to go to get to the steps, and still had the long climb back ahead of them to get back up the side of the cliff.

A pair of rather skittish, but bold jackals had followed them all along the trek back through the brush. The guards had caught brief glimpses of them off and on throughout the long, slow trip back. When they stopped to rest, the jackals hid behind a tall, wide clump of grass to watch. Ranec saw them, and he and Brenan decided to walk around a bit to check them out. The small animals were unusual looking, built more like a fox than a dhole or a wolf, but colored differently than either. Both men carried spears, along with their scabbards of extras strapped over their backs.

Nonchalantly moving in a wide circle around where the jackals lay semi hidden in the uneven patch of grasses, they tried to look as if they were unaware of the jackals. Short, new growth trees partially shaded the clump the jackals hid behind. Wide with short, leaf heavy branches, these spindly trees moved gracefully with every small gust of breeze. The near constant motion made it hard to keep a good eye on the small animals as the circled wide around them.

Ranec stopped and knelt down to adjust his right foot cover, and Brenan waited beside him, sweeping their perimeter slowly. The thin tops of the grass clumps swayed along with the short trees in the soft winds, and a hare hopped a few bounds to hide himself to the north of the jackals. As Ranec stood back up, the jackals suddenly bolted, so did the hare. They all disappeared quickly, the jackals to the south, the hare to the north.

"I guess they thought we were close enough." Ranec said softly, lowering the butt of his spear to the ground.

"I wish we could have gotten closer, I would like to get a better look at them." Brenan said. "What was it that Wymez called them?"

"Jackals, I think." Ranec answered as he picked his spear back up off the ground.

"Oh well, maybe next time." Brenan said softly, turning to go back.

Ranec took a long last look, then turned to follow Brenan. He froze after two steps and whirled back around, something was odd, he thought, but couldn't quite figure out what.

In the slowly swaying panorama of gentle movement and multi-colored background, something had caught his attention. Something so slightly out of place that he only knew it didn't belong. He swept the tree line again slowly, concentrating and squinting his eyes as he did. For an instant, and only an instant, Ranec looked directly into a pair of deep brown eyes through a small gap in the leaves of one of the short trees. Then it was gone, the dark gap and the eyes both, swallowed by the deep green expanse of gently moving leaves. Ranec blinked, not knowing if what he had seen was real or imagined. He looked deep into the tree again, nothing, nothing at all.

Taking a deep, quivering breath, Ranec was suddenly aware that Brenan was several steps away from him and he was all of the sudden very anxious to catch up. He didn't want to be left alone, not here, not now. Ranec walked briskly, running the sight through his mind as he caught up quickly. Was it real, he wondered, or did I just imagine it all. Ranec had no answer, but it bothered him all the same.

**********

Talut and Draag paused at the bottom of the long slope of the cliff, staring up at the winding green vines that ran all through the craggy rocks. The heavy skin bulging with meat swayed on the pole between them. This was where they had seen the baboons earlier, and both men were curious as to what they had been after.

The bright green vines started a good way up, maybe twice as high as Talut was tall, and spread out wide along what looked to be a narrow, uneven, jagged terrace. They stretched up in a rough, triangle shaped peak to a blunt point. The leaves were wide and constantly moved in the hot winds off the flats. There were occasional patches of a deep purple color scattered in amongst the greens of the leaves and the greys of the rock.

"Grups." Draag grunted, pointing at a thick patch of deep purple in an easy to see place. The look on the stoic face of the man of the Clan could have almost been interpreted as a smile. Almost.

Talut grinned broadly, Draag was right. The baboons had been feasting on fresh grapes, what a find. Talut could almost taste the fine wines that Vincavec was famous for. Now, he wondered, how do I get up there to harvest them. The two men moved on, the pole they carried between them heavy and bulky.

**********

Well up ahead, the bottom grey rocks of the steps were barely visible. The long line of hunters stretched out, slow but steady, they were getting closer to home one heavy step at a time.

**********

An ominous sight greeted the hunters as they made their way to the grassy knoll where the stone steps began. The herds were all much further back away from the cliff than they normally were, and the closest herd of the nearly black wildebeast had moved near the river far on to the south. Less than a hundred paces out into the flats to the southeast, a huge male lion sat up in the short grass facing them with his large pride scattered in loose ranks around him. His reddish blonde mane in constant, gentle movement in the slight breeze. What appeared to be the lead female lay beside him, her ears pointed toward the approaching hunters, her eyes never wavering.

Mortan, Druwez, and Barzec walked out ten steps into the flats and formed up a small phalanx to guard against any sudden move from the lion pride. As soon as they positioned themselves, a lanky cheetah loped out from the edge of the brush to the southwest.

The cheetah slowed and lifted his head up into the breeze, and veered straight at the hunters. Fifty to sixty paces out from the rear guard, the cheetah slowed and trotted back to the east. When he saw the lion pride, he turned and held his distance as he trotted back to the west. He continued this back and forth pacing, watching with ever increasing interest as the humans began their ascent up the side of the cliff.

The first steps cut into the gentle, grassy slope of the cliff were easy enough to traverse, but gave a quick hint of hardships to follow. The second man on the pole felt the weight of his burden increase as the first man climbed the rise in front of him. The natural transfer of weight as the pole angle changed almost brought him to his knees.

"Slow down!" Branag called out to Talut.

Talut glanced back over his shoulder, surprised to see Branag struggling to keep his feet. With a lurch, Talut picked his end of the pole off his shoulder and lowered it down nearly to his waist. It got considerably heavier immediately. The hanging skin almost touched the ground between them.

Branag felt the weight dissipate a bit, and was able to stand back upright with a powerful surge of his rippling thigh muscles. The next couple of steps were easier, but his legs burned with the exertion and his footfalls were heavy and ponderous.

At the bottom of the rise, Danug and Troog had the next heavily laden pole between them and ready to go. Troog was a full two heads and a half shorter than Danug, and seeing the problem that Branag had with the slightly taller Talut leading, the two men set the pole down and swapped positions. With Troog leading, they started up well behind Talut and Branag.

The rest of the hunters watched from level ground as the two pair of men worked their way up the stone steps. By the time Talut reached the solid rock of the lowest terrace, Brug led Brenan up the incline with a smaller load of their own from one of the young giraffes.

Talut had a little trouble keeping the pole high enough so that the swinging skin full of meat didn't drag the ground as he turned to go east on the narrow terrace. Once he got a few steps behind him, Branag was able to get over the last step and turn to get back in behind Talut and follow along on the rock path. The weight of the load seemed to get heavier and heavier as they climbed the slight incline of the ever rising terrace.

When Talut reached the first set of wooden steps at the transition between the two terraces, he stopped to rest for a moment. He needed to study how to best maneuver himself up without swamping Branag with a sudden surge of weight. Talut was breathing hard, though accustomed to carrying heavy weights, this was altogether different.

The first attempt up the wooden stairs failed and Branag very nearly lost his balance in the try. He and Talut regrouped to try again, this time shortening the distance between them. The weight shift as Talut reached the second step up, and when he heard Branag grunt he froze in place to look back. After the scare of a few minutes before, Talut was willing to take no undue chances. The veins in Branag's neck bulged out as much as the ripples of his strong legs, but it was the redness in his face that gave Talut pause. The big man backed off a step to Branag's relief, and they worked back down to the nearly level rock of the terrace.

Troog and Danug caught up with Talut and Branag, standing back to watch as the two strong men struggled to figure a better way up. They set the pole off their shoulders and dropped their load gently to the terrace as they waited.

Talut and Branag each slid up the pole toward each other, this time they got as close together as the bulging skin full of meat would allow. As they faced the wooden steps, it was obvious that the two of them and the dangling load were still too wide to go up at the same time, but not by much. Branag got a silly look on his face and turned sideways, facing Talut. Talut took his cue and did the same, they were now narrow enough to go up the steps at the same time.

Branag lifted his right foot up onto the first step, and Talut aped him with his own left foot. With a little nod, they stepped up together, then brought up their other feet up to the same step as well. One step at a time, they made their way to the top.

"Well that wasn't so hard." Branag said with a silly grin.

"Nope, not hard at all." Talut answered, then turned to look down at Troog and Danug who watched from the bottom of the stairs. "Did you two see how we did that?"

Both men nodded as they slowly picked up the heavy pole and stepped up to the bottom step. They used the same technique and had no trouble making the odd feeling climb. At the top of the platform, they waited then passed the preferred method on to Brug and Brenan when they got there.

Talut grunted as he shifted the heavy pole a little closer to his wide neck, the pole left a deep indention in the top of his shoulder. He glanced down the drop off as they made their way up the side of the cliff, now heading back to the west. Down below, the line of hunters in pairs making their own way up the path stretched all the way back down to ground level. There were still two pair of men with poles and the guards out on the short grass of the flats.

**********

Mortan turned to watch as the last men started up the steps of stone, it was almost their turn to head back up. The three rear guards were all sweating in the hot sun and more than ready to get off the hot flats.

The lions had not moved, except for a trio of full grown females who had encroached some fifteen odd steps closer to the cliff. These lions had set themselves up in a position to better see the activities of the humans, sitting up and watching every move they made.

The cheetah still trotted back and forth, the same distance away from them. He held to a roughly parallel path that stretched from a respectful distance back from the pride of lions all the way to the edge of the brush. Over and over, the cheetah showed no signs of tiring and never, ever took his eyes off the human chain reaching up the side of the cliff.

Barzec made a motion to the younger hunters, and they turned back toward the cliff. Barzec walked backward, keeping his eyes on the predators. The three front lions stood up as the men stared back, then the lions behind them stood up as well. Only the majestic male stayed nonchalantly seated.

The cheetah was on his westward trek, and just as he turned to go back east, Barzec caught the slightest glimpse of movement from the brush. For an instant, he saw a dark skinned body rise up from the light green and tans, then it was gone. The cheetah jumped sideways, then took off in a dead run back to the east. This time, he veered off his usual path and headed a little more southerly. Some fifteen long stretching bounds later, he folded up and went face first into the grass and dirt, kicking up a small cloud of dust as he rolled to a sprawling stop.

Barzec froze in his steps as three dark skinned men appeared from the brush. They had streaked and painted bodies and small tufts of grass tied to their arms and legs, with more wrapped around their chests and backs. It was difficult to see them clearly from this far away, their profiles blurred considerably by the camouflage grasses.

Behind him, Barzec heard a gasp from Mortan, then another from Druwez as they both stopped to watch.

The dark skinned hunters raced across the flats in a quick jog, covering the distance to the cheetah rapidly. The first hunter to reach the fallen cat dropped to his knees and slit his throat with a small knife he pulled from his waist. The second hunter pulled a bow up and stood between them and the lions. The last hunter began to tie the cheetah's rear legs together with what looked like a thin piece of leather. The first hunter then tied up the cat's front legs.

As soon as they had the legs tied up, the two hunters lifted the long body of the cheetah up by his tied feet and took off back toward the brush. The hunter with the bow followed behind them, mindfully looking back at the lions every other step or so. Two of the front lions followed the hunters for a few steps, then turned back at the short roar of command from the lead female.

The dark skinned hunters vanished completely into the brush.

"Wow, how did they do that?" Mortan asked to no one in particular.

"That was really something." Druwez echoed.

"I don't know," Barzec replied. "Let's get on up the cliff, we can talk about it all later. Let's keep it to ourselves until then."

Mortan and Druwez both nodded, and with one last look back into the brush, they turned and started up the stone steps.

**********

Barzec stopped and looked back down from the second wooden landing, farthest to the west edge of the path. His eyes swept slowly over the flats and on farther to the beginnings of the brush. Nothing seemed out of place, and he looked farther over the treetops of the heavy woods closer to the lake. Something caught his eye, and as he focused in on it he grinned. A wide winged, black and white eagle soared over the treetops gracefully, flapping her huge wings slowly on occasion to maintain her altitude.

He followed the eagle as she flew farther to the west. The lake itself was not easily visible from this height, but the gap in the tops of the trees gave away its location well enough. When the eagle cleared the gap, she suddenly veered to the north toward the falls.

Barzec slowly turned to continue his climb, but stopped and stared at something that looked a little odd. He watched carefully for a long moment before he realized just what it was he was seeing.

A thin tendril of smoke came from a small break in the trees. It disappeared often as he watched it, dissipating completely in the breezes. He took a deep breath, then turned back to the path, Mortan and Druwez were well ahead of him on the thin rock terrace.

Barzec took his time, thinking hard on what all he had just seen.

**********

The feast that evening was incredible.

The women had spent the day gathering fresh greens and fruits. A few pear trees had been found, along with the usual bananas and a few tart, not fully ripe blackberries. Mushrooms, fat reddish colored roots, radishes, onions, and a few large blooms of lettuce rounded out the choices of vegetables.

A meat heavy stew with roots and onions simmered near the edge of the secondary fire near the two pit ovens. Another stew with mostly vegetables and a little dried crocodile meat added for extra flavor sat on the opposite side of the fire.

Mounds of tender giraffe meat from the ground ovens filled three huge platters, piled high and steaming. More thick, heavy giraffe strips filled another two platters from being cooked on the spit.

All in all, it was a succulent feast worthy of remembering.

Brug got his accolades from leading the extremely successful hunt, though it embarrassed him to accept the praise heaped upon him and the rest of the hunters. He caught a relaxed look from the Mog-ur, and felt a little better about it, hoping that Ursus would not see him as being prideful or arrogant. Brug did have to admit that the fresh meat from the ground oven was as tender and moist and tasty as any he had ever eaten, with the single exception of mammoth.

The vast array of relaxed discussions that took place after the meal seemed to go on and on.

A little north of the pond, a nice stand of oats were found, with a little wheat mixed in at the edge of the oats where the patch began to transition back into tall grass. The women had cut the tops off what they could, but hadn't yet separated the seeds from the chaff. Another stand of banana trees had been located as well along a small feeder creek that eventually joined the larger creek that fed the pond, this was also where the pear trees were found.

Many plans for the giraffe skins were talked about. As pretty and unusual looking as they were, there were many folks interested in them. From bed covers and sleeping furs to room partitions, these talks ran the gamut of possibilities. The skins were huge, they would undoubtably go a long way. Latie and Nezzie expressed an interest to make new clothes out of them as well, with Etra and Inca nodding their agreements.

The hunt itself was dissected in extreme detail as usual. Brug and his usual hunters getting the lion's share of the questions, but Talut and especially Branag both gave long recitations on the merits of the planning of the hunt. Many of the questions were asked as much to prolong the discussion of the hunt as to actually inquire of the specifics. It was, after all, the first hunt in the flats, and even most of the women hung around to hear all about it.

A lot of time was spent on the encroachment of the predators after the kills. This was a much more dangerous aspect of hunting than they usually had to face. There was always the possibility of predators and scavengers following a major kill, but this seemed excessive. A lot of talk was centered around the best ways to protect themselves, and how many extra hunters would be needed to act as guards when hunting the larger animals of the flats. It was an added concern that would need to be planned for on every trip down to the flats. It also raised added interest for the small band of hunters that Brug led out on a regular basis, though they had yet to encounter anything as drastic as what went on in the flats.

The talks continued, and a large number of folks participated.

Three distinctly different flavors of tea were passed around throughout the evening's discussions. All were excellent tasting, but two had been flavored with fruits to add extra sweetness. One was made with banana added, the other with the dark colored, rather tart blackberries. All three were consumed with gusto.

As the dark sky filled with stars, Barzec thought it time to bring up the cheetah. All extraneous conversations ceased as he told the camp what all he and the other two guards had seen. The camp was as quiet as it ever got as he told the story. When he finally got to the part about the brief wisps of smoke he saw from the other side of the lake, it got even quieter if that was possible.

Ranec was quiet throughout most of Barzec's long, very detailed account. He thought long and hard about bringing up what he thought he had seen, it all still sounded a little crazy, even to him. In the end, he decided that he had to tell of what he saw, and finally did so during the long period of silence that followed when Barzec finished.

Following another long period of silence, this new discussion started slowly but lasted deep into the night.


	37. Chapter 26 Part 2

**Chapter Twenty Six**

_Dholes, Baboon, and the Flats_

**Part Two**

Early the next morning, well before the sun came up, Barzec, Brenan, and Ranec left out of the camp to the southwest. They followed the edge of the cliff all the way back to the falls, curious as to what they could see in the dark down below. It was slow going, no one wanted to risk running into the black panther that they knew inhabited the area, or anything else for that matter.

When they finally got near the falls, they slowed even more. The low roar of the water made hearing anything else difficult at best, and there were only three of them. They climbed up onto a flat rock bluff that stretched out and eventually turned the river back to the west. The rock was a good body length and a half tall, and a little hard to climb in the dark, but they managed without anyone falling off.

Even with their eyes used to the dark, it was hard to see anything down below. A vast sea of still blackness with little to no color variations spread out for as far as they could see. Even the occasional bawling of calves below were hard to discern over the constant noise of the waterfall.

The slightly gusting breeze came in over the flats from the southwest. It carried the soft scents of mostly water, with a subtle mixture of grass, trees, and grazing animals. The breeze was warm here, bringing with it the heat from the flats below, with a heavy amount of moisture mixed in from the vapors of the falls.

Barzec tried to judge where he had seen the smoke, but from here it was all mixed up in his mind. Besides, he had seen it in the light of day, and everything was harder to keep in proper perspective in the dark.

The three men watched and searched, but could find no evidence of a fire. They stayed at it though, all having as much persistence as was necessary.

Once, the slight smell of smoke reached them on the breeze. Brief, and gone as soon as they realized what it was they caught a whiff of, it gave them an added sense of urgency to see the location of its origin. They smelled smoke a couple of times more before the dawning finally began, but never saw the glow of any fire.

As the light of the new day arrived, the source of the smoke was seen. Brief wisps of smoke trailed over the treetops, and they followed it back to a small break in the trees. It was well back into the woods on the far side of the lake, very near where the river continued on out through the flats.

"Well, it's nice to know I wasn't just seeing things." Ranec said softly with a crooked grin.

"I know how you feel." Barzec added with a bit of a relieved look on his face.

"Ever since making our way through the country all that long distance alone after the Wolf Camp was destroyed I have seen things that I never was sure were real." Ranec continued. "I guess I am not completely crazy after all."

"I'll have to ask Tricie a few questions before I can agree with that." Brenan said with a chuckle.

"Well, you have me there." Ranec mumbled. "If that is what I'll be measured by I will just admit to being crazy here and now."

Brenan laughed aloud.

"I guess we have neighbors." Barzec said with a serious tone of voice, wondering for the first time just how safe their new home camp was after all. With the violent memories of the Northern Mamutoi raiders and the Eastern Savages all still fresh in his mind, it was hard to hold out any real hope of having friends in this new land.

"We'd best get back." He continued. "Talut will want to know what all we've found."

**********

Talut led the small band of men down the cliff path. There were six men, all heavily armed and Brug. They took their time working their way down the steep trail, the sun was bright and hot. It was just before mid day.

Down below the flats teemed with life, though the herds seemed a little farther back away from the edge of the brush that surrounded the lake than usual. Instead, they were congregated closer to the river much farther to the south.

The only animals near the brush were predators and scavengers, and they were in abundance. Two separate groups of hyenas, a pair of young lions, one male and one female, three lone cheetahs, and three large packs of dholes were scattered around in the short grass. They kept a respectable distance from each other, but it was an uncomfortable gathering. The hyenas were unable to stay still, constantly moving about, always edging closer and closer to the edge of the brush. When they got too close, a low growl of warning drove them back.

The large pride of lions had claimed the remains of the giraffes left behind from the hunters, and thus far, had no real challenges for what was left. The clearing within stand of trees where the hunt had taken place was surprisingly near the edge of the brush to the southeast. No lions were visible from the flats, but they were in a strong defensive position just within the brush.

Talut paused at the lower landing on the wooden steps, the view from here was good out over the flats. The congregation of dangerous animals to the near southwest was a little discouraging.

"If we follow the cliff we can probably stay out of their way and we can get back to the lake." Branag said, standing beside Talut.

Talut nodded, thinking much the same thing. "All right, let's do it that way. Danug, you and Ludeg are the rear guard."

Danug grinned at Ludeg, and they let Brug and Troog go past them as the line of men started on down the trail.

At the bottom, they strung out into a tight line and took off in a slow trot down the edge of the cliff. The ground here was rocky in places from falling rock from the cliff side over time, but they stayed close anyway. The line wound around the occasional piles of rubble making good time while being very aware of their surroundings.

A few odd sights garnered their attention along the way. The nearest group of hyenas moved a little closer as the men first took off on to the west, only to turn back after following for a little way. The baboons were all over the rocks where the grapes grew, scavenging and lounging. A python slowly climbed up the lower rocks with a large hare in his mouth, his long body twisting and turning as he did. Ground squirrels and chipmunks chattered at them from the relative safety of the rocks, baring their bodies bravely for brief moments before disappearing again quickly. A jackal sprinted nimbly away with a huge field rat in his mouth, flushed from behind a short bush jutting out from the rubble.

Talut slowed the line when the finally reached the beginnings of the brush that ringed the lake. The sounds of the falls was growing ever stronger and louder, and a cool mist blew over them from time to time. Branag pointed to the southeast, and Talut nodded as they moved into the tall grass, skirting a stand of bushes to his left.

Moving through the taller grasses and brush, the men wound through the clear spots at a fast, but cautious walk. The mostly knee high grass moved all around them in sporadic fashion as rabbits, hares, rats, ground squirrels and other small creatures got out of their way in a self preserving haste. It was a bit unnerving, but they ventured on. As they approached the first trees, Talut veered back to the southwest, following the path of least resistance. It was also farther away from the clearing where the giraffe hunt had taken place yesterday.

The shadows enveloped them as the tree cover grew thicker. Talut slowed the pace a little, taking more care as he picked his way through the ever increasing number of trees. Off farther to the west, soft chattering sounds of monkeys grew slowly louder and louder.

Talut moved through a narrow break between a pair of huge, wide tree trunks and stopped to peer out into a small, completely shaded clearing. At a wide clump of course bladed grass, a long horned black knight chewed a mouthful of deep green grass. He was facing away, gazing slowly from side to side as he chewed. He turned his striped white face a little farther behind him and caught a glimpse of Talut. In a flurry of hooves was gone through the trees to the southeast. Talut grinned, licking his lips.

Past the trees that ringed the clearing, he caught a few random glimpses of blue, sparkling water beyond. He stepped through the thick tree trunks, leading his men into the clearing. They moved quietly through the mostly short grass, stepping around the few clumps of darker, taller grass. Dry leaves softly crackled under foot, and a squirrel chattered at them from the lower branch of a tree directly in front of them, his tail twitching rapidly with his annoyance.

The men scattered out in the shade, looking out on the bright blue body of water. Sparkling brightly in the sunlight, the ripples of the water all came from the direction of the falls. The mist that hung in the air at the falls seemed to sparkle as well, giving it a strange look like free flying fireflies that were trying to reach up to the ever present rainbow above.

The lake was huge, it was a long way across in its greatest width which occurred roughly here. Back down to the south and west, the large expanse of water gradually began to narrow as the trees seemed to tighten its grip and force the water inward. A lot of wildlife was visible.

A large contingent of monkeys frolicked in the shallows across the lake to their right. Young ones splashing as they sat hip deep in the cool waters, most of the adults sitting around on the grassy banks. A scattered spattering of banana trees grew behind them, the large leaves swaying slowly in the gentle breeze. A large male monkey sat in the shade of the banana trees, picking ticks or fleas from the fur of his knee, eating his catch.

A pair of waterbucks drank from the lake at a place where the trees grew right out into the water. Neither had horns, and one was probably just a yearling, skittish and jittery while his mother drank peacefully from the cool, shaded water.

A turtle head popped up in the shallows directly out in front of them. The size of his shell was visible through the clear water, he was a big one. Behind him the ominous pair of crocodile eyes surfaced briefly, then disappeared with a swirl of ripples as he submerged.

The lake shore varied rather dramatically. Across from them, it went from grass banks to deep brown mud, to places where the trees and brush grew right to the waters edge. This side looked to be no different from what they could see so far.

The men moved on cautiously and slowly. They were in regular hunting clothes, not the newer camouflaged type, and tried to stay just within whatever cover grew close to the water. They made their way past the trees, then skirted a place where the bank was clear and predominantly grass and mud. At the edge of the grass, a pair of crocodiles lounged in the sun, unconcerned by the humans who went past them at a respectable distance.

Weaving through another stand of trees, Talut slowed and looked out on a wide, muddy cove. Several impala drank from the water across the muddy shoreline, sprinting away gracefully as soon as the men were spotted. An oblong clearing surrounded the cove, heavily trampled grass gave proof of the fact that this was a popular place for the grazing herds of the flats to water. To the left, there was a wide clear break that led a gently winding path back out to the flats. A trio of odd looking rhinoceros walked slowly toward the lake, their dark grey skin completely devoid of fur. Naked animals, Talut thought as he gave them a long look. So very strange.

Branag scowled as he followed Talut through the clearing, not liking the fact that there was no available cover at all here. The men trotted across the clearing, spears at the ready, grateful of the brush at the opposite side. The rhinos paid them no mind.

As soon as they were out of the open clearing, they gathered up in the relative cover of the scrub brush. Heading back toward the lake, trees loomed ahead, large and thick again. They moved on cautiously.

The stand was long and narrow, and stopped short of the lake. Between the trees and the water, short, bright green grass carpeted the ground all the way out to the edge of the lake. Talut stopped in the shade of the trees to peer out.

The water swelled suddenly in just out front of them, and a huge head popped up. It was a strange looking beast, hairless looking with fat jowls and a domed head. It shot sprays of water out of its wide flaring nostrils before taking a few deep breaths of fresh air. Another beast just like him surfaced beside him.

The men just stared, what were these creatures, they all wondered as they observed their every move. After a few deep breaths, the water swallowed these large animals as they submerged again leaving large, rolling swells in their wake.

Talut turned his attention back across the lake, still watching for any tell tale signs of smoke. Still nothing. They moved on, staying just within the cover of the trees.

The trees surrounding the lake here gradually thickened, slowly becoming a true forest. The ground around the edge of the lake slowly got rockier as they went along, and the bank got slightly steeper. Patches of gravel made up the shoreline more and more.

Brenan kept his eyes out for flint nodules, so far, a good source of the stone had yet to be found. Enough decent quality of the tool makers stone had been scavenged, but it was not as fresh as any skilled knapper would want. Brenan knew there had to be a good source of stone somewhere in this Land of the Sun, he just hadn't found it yet.

Talut called a halt in a small, shaded break between several large trees. Traveling food was brought out, and a quick snack and rest was enjoyed.

Danug stretched out and lay down, the cold giraffe meat from the ground oven had tasted just as good as it had the night before. It had definitely been flavored with hunger, but Danug hadn't noticed. He stared into the expanse of branches and leaves above him, content and happy for the break. His eyes caught movement, and he watched a squirrel scamper effortlessly through the upper branches. Oh to be able to climb like that, he mused.

A glimpse of bright blue caught his eye, and Danug focused in on a large male peacock pruning his long tail feathers. What a magnificent bird, he thought as his eyes wandered on through the limbs. To the left of the male, a pair of female peacocks groomed themselves. Much less colorful, almost drab in comparison to the flashy males, they were also quite a bit smaller in overall stature.

Sweeping the branches slowly, an odd sight slowly came into focus. Hard to distinguish at first, Danug followed the thick, spotted body until he found the wide triangle of its head. It was a python, a big one. The snake moved in slow motion, gracefully traveling from branch to branch as effortlessly as the squirrels did, just a lot more slowly. The sight gave Danug a rash of chill bumps, he had never seen a snake that big before, and he had seen big snakes. He kept his eye on the python until Talut said it was time to move on.

The ground rose up gently for a while as they followed the shoreline from just within the trees. In a few places the ground broke in small, short, rock faced terraces. Little more than calf high, the steps up held plenty of dark soil and grass on top. The men encountered four such breaks in the ground before the shoreline started veering off sharply back to the west. Another break in the trees loomed ahead.

Talut and Branag paused to check out the clearing, and were surprised to see a short, grey rock cliff that pushed the water of the lake sharply west. There were dark spots in the face of the short cliff, shiny ones.

"Hey Brenan, come take a look at this." Branag said softly over his shoulder.

Brenan stepped up beside Branag, and looked out to where he was pointing.

"That looks like obsidian." Brenan said, a particular patch of the dark stone glistening brightly in the sunlight.

"Let's check it out." Branag said as he moved past Talut, the rest of the men followed cautiously out into the clearing.

The rock was indeed obsidian, and Branag and Brenan went to work trying to pry one of the larger stones out of the deep grey rock that surrounded it. They used their knives to gently carve around the dark stone.

Talut and the rest scattered about as they wandered back closer to the shoreline. The water was crystal clear and looked deep here with a solid rock bottom that was easily seen through the water. Several large fish could be seen suspended at various depths, especially around some large rocks on the bottom.

Brug went the other way, following the side of the short cliff, watching the ground at the bottom of the cliff that was just higher than he was tall. There was a bit of occasional rubble at the bottom of the cliff, most of it was at least partially covered with knee high weeds, wild flowers, and grass. Brug used the tip of his spear to move the grass aside, and peered into the rubble. He walked slowly along, using his spear point to see what was covered.

Branag snapped the point off his knife as he put too much pressure on a cut into the grey limestone. He grimaced, but kept working. They had most of the shiny black stone exposed, but so far it was still imbedded too deep to get it out. The stone was bigger than a man's head, even Talut's head, Branag thought with a chuckle.

The cliff fell away a few hundred paces further down the edge of the lake, and the tree cover began again in earnest past a few stands of brush. Talut saw a black headed eagle perched on top of a tall tree over looking the lake. It looked like this was where the lake ended and the river began, judging by the shape of the opposite shore. There was still no sign of smoke as he swept the far shore again.

Brug held a sprig of bright yellow wild flowers back, and reached down to pick up a dark colored stone. He brushed it off, seeing the shiny, glassy surface gleaming at him. The stone was a little bigger than his fist, encouraged, Brug moved on further down the cliff.

Branag pulled hard on the stone, but it was still lodged securely. Brenan grinned at his red faced efforts, and reached up to slice another round at the perimeter. The dark limestone was considerably lighter just under the surface, almost a dull bone white. There was already a light ring established all the way around the dark piece of obsidian.

Talut watched the eagle drop off the branch and set his wings to soar out over the main body of the lake. He swooped down low and dropped his talons down into the water with a splash, snatching a silvery fish the size of Talut's hand from the lake. The eagle beat his wings furiously to regain altitude, and returned to the same tree top from before.

Brug saw another dark spot, and reached down to grab it. He scowled as he lifted it up to examine it, though dark, it wasn't another piece of the obsidian. Brug looked closer and his eyes brightened, it was a broken nodule of dark grey flint. He looked up, and was about to turn and go back to Brenan and Branag, but froze in place instead. On top of the short cliff, very near the edge, Brug saw as many pairs of dark legs as he had fingers on both hands.

He took a deep breath, his spear was leaning against his shoulder, both his hands were still wrapped around the broken nodule of flint. Brug' eyes roamed up the bare legs that were darker in color than Ranec was, slowly. At the knees, light streaks were smeared over the skin. A short piece of tied together animal skin covered the men from the upper thigh to the waist. From the waist up they were naked, with more light colored streaks covering their dark skin. They all had expressionless faces and held bows, but none had an arrow knocked. Each man had an arrow filled scabbard slung across his back.

Brug stepped back, grabbing his spear and dropping the flint as he did. All of the men above were tall and thin, except one. He was considerably shorter and obviously younger. The young one took a step forward and reached out his hand, palm up, then grinned broadly.

This caught Brug by surprise, and his dark brown eyes sparkled. All of the sudden, Brug saw more dark skinned men step out of the trees. They seemed to just appear they were so well camouflaged to their surroundings.

"Bran-nah." Brug said in a slightly excited tone of voice.

Branag took one last pull on the stone and wrenched it free just as Brug called his name. His effort put him off balance and Branag sat down in the grass roughly on his butt, the heavy piece of prized stone in his lap. Grinning, he looked over at Brug some fifteen paces away. His grin faded when he looked up and saw what Brug was looking at.

Danug looked back, wondering if Branag and Brenan had got the stone loose, and saw the two men walking slowly toward Brug a good way farther down the cliff. Then he saw the men on top of the cliff. With a hushed tone, he alerted the others.

The face off between the two groups of men was quiet for a long time. All of them eyeing each other carefully and with great curiosity.

At length, Talut held out both hands palms up, and took a couple of steps forward as he did.

One of the dark skinned men took a step forward as Talut did, holding his free hand up also. Though the short cliff made it impossible to be sure, Talut got the distinct impression that these men were all taller than he was, with the exception of the boy. The tall man smiled at Talut, his white teeth gleaming out from the darkness of his face. Talut smiled in return.

"Greetings." Talut boomed out, his voice exuding confidence even though they were sorely outnumbered.

The dark skinned man cocked his head to the side slightly, then said something that was completely foreign and totally unintelligible. Talut grinned, and shook his head back and forth. The man on the cliff studied Talut's face for a moment, then used the tip of his bow to make a motion across the ground. Pausing, the man then pointed the tip of the bow out to his left, then drew it across his chest and continued the motion back to his right. He smiled again as he finished, then traced a line in the dirt in front of him.

The look on Talut's face let him know that Talut didn't understand. So the man made the motion again, slower and even more exaggerated this time. He got the same result.

The young man looked down at Brug, then made a few motions with his hands, speaking in a strange tongue as he did. Brug studied his every move, and an idea slowly formed in his mind. The young man went through the entire recitation again. Brug turned to Troog and signed.

'Is he saying that this is the boundary to their land?'

Troog looked back up at the youngster, and he went through the highly exaggerated motions once again. Troog was surprised to come to the same conclusions that Brug suggested, but it did seem to be what the youth was saying. Clan people just had a better sense of interpreting body motions and nuances. The youngster was talking, Troog decided, one just had to watch, and to learn.

'I think you are correct.' Troog signed. Then he looked over to Talut and grunted softly to get his attention.

Talut pulled his eyes away from the man on the cliff, and watched as Troog signed to him. The words formed slowly in his mind. Talut looked back up as the man went through one last repetition of the movements, this time speaking much more forcibly as he did.

When he finished, the dark skinned man turned and walked back into the trees, his men following. The shadows seemed to swallow them whole as they walked away, slowly disappearing.

The youngster was the last, and he turned one last time and smiled at Brug. He lifted one hand and extended a finger, than he made a small circular motion with it. Brug cocked his head, a confused but interested look on his face. The boy circled his finger again, then with one last smile, disappeared into the shadows.

Brug lifted his right hand and cupped his fingers, twisting his hand in a slow 'come back' motion as the boy faded out of sight. It was really quiet on the bottom side of the cliff, and it stayed that way for a while.

It took a long time to get back up to the top of the cliff. Conversation was at a bare minimum, and everyone was lost in their own thoughts of the encounter.

At the second wooden landing, Brug and Troog paused to look back. A single wisp of smoke appeared briefly from across the lake to the southwest. Troog put his hand on Brug's shoulder, then they turned to climb the last leg up the cliff.

**********

Nearly the entire camp stayed out around the main fire after the last meal was finished and the area cleaned and tidied up. A few of the women had to tend to the youngest children, but pretty much everyone else hung around to hear the story of the strangers.

The new strangers stayed the topic of discussion well into the night. All the camp leaders stayed actively involved in the conversation, even as the majority of the camp eventually went on to bed. They questioned everything that was known about their dark skinned neighbors, every known aspect. Particularly Vincavec and Tulie. Especially after Ranec added his brief experience.

"...he was only there for an instant." Ranec continued, his dark eyes sparkling in the glimmering firelight. "I wasn't really sure what it was, actually I'm kind of glad it turned out to be something real. I was hoping my imagination wasn't running away with me like it did a few times when we fled the Wolf Camp."

Tricie smiled beside Ranec, a busy little Ralev sat in her lap. She got a brief rash of chills when she thought of the long, dangerous trek they had gone on to escape the wrath of the renegades. It had lasted for months, and had been as dangerous a trip as anything she had ever been through in her life. Many times along the way she had thought they were doomed, but somehow, Ranec had managed to get them all back safely to the summer meeting. Ralev was busy carving on a small piece of bone with a specially made flint knife, thin curls of bone lay all over his lap and his mother's bare legs. Some four legged animal was beginning to take shape, but whatever it was going to be wasn't quite yet obvious.

"While traveling cross country through all those strange lands, I was constantly seeing things." Ranec went on. "Renegades around every clearing, lions in every bush, panthers in every tree. I guess it rattled me more than I thought, sometimes I still think I see things that aren't really there. At least I hope they're not."

Ranec chuckled to himself, if his dark skin could have shown it, he would have been red in the face. Very red, admitting all this was not a very manly thing to have to do, especially in this camp.

"I was just not absolutely sure of what I thought I saw, that's all. After what's happened in the past, I didn't want to cause an undue panic." Ranec dropped his eyes over to Ralev, watching the boy pull another thin curl of bone off the emerging shape.

Tulie wrinkled her brow, knowing at least part of Ranec's story, as well as her own treacherous travels across strange lands and the dangers they had presented. Her hard expression softened a bit as she addressed him directly.

"From now on, I think it best if you would let us know of anything you see out of the ordinary." She smiled softly as she continued. "I won't laugh at you, or anyone else. We all have to remember that this land still is mostly unknown to us. There will be dangers here that we have never seen or been up against before. It's all important, even if you're not sure what you see."

"I want everyone to respect this new boundary." Talut said with his best camp leaders voice. "When we hunt the flats, we will stay well away from their territory, I want no quarrel with our new neighbors."

Talut glanced out over the gather, making sure that everyone had heard him and knew he was serious. He looked directly at Brug, who gave him a subtle nod of obeisance and agreement. Talut grinned at the exceptional young hunter and finished. "We will give them no reasons to have any kind of conflict with us, there is land and bounty enough for us all."

"Wymez, have you any experience with these people?" Vincavec asked as Tornec worked hard to keep up his continuous translations.

Wymez sat next to Jaycie with little Tonie in his lap, Jaycie had her hand affectionately on Wymez' thigh. He wrinkled his brow in thought for a short while before he answered.

"Well, one thing to learn about the Land of the Sun is that there are a lot of different peoples that live here." All attention centered on Wymez as he spoke in his usual soft, deep voice.

"Different tribes, light skinned and dark, some rather tall, a few quite short. Some groups of people are large, and some very small, almost like single family tribes. The people I lived with for a while called themselves the 'River Hunters'. They lived and hunted along the banks of a river they called the 'Grey River' because of the grey rock bed that was so easy to see through the usually clear waters..."

Mog-ur watched Tornec closely, following every thing that Wymez was saying. He had his own source of information about this land, but it was all contained within his deepest memories. He listened with interest, some of the things Wymez spoke of triggering glimpses from the deep, well buried past in his mind.

"...and the tribe that eventually drove us away called themselves the 'Lion People'. It was said that they lived as a pride of lions lived, following their prey through the jungles and meadows. These people were dark skinned as well, but not nearly as dark as the 'River Hunters'. All of them had hair much like Ranec's, short and kind of kinky.

"Some peoples that I heard of, but never encountered, were the 'Forest Dwellers', the 'Short People', and the 'Night Hunters'. Supposedly, the 'Night Hunters' did just that, they hunted at night. As best as I can remember, they were all light skinned like us, but like I said, I never actually saw them. The 'Short People' may have been dark skinned, they were said to be particularly ferocious, not friendly to strangers at all. I really don't remember any dark skinned people that were exceptionally tall.

"There were several other tribes that lived near the ocean, but they were all light skinned too. It's just been too long, I don't recall what they called themselves. They mostly fished and lived close to the sea and where a huge river emptied there though, I do remember that much. Some of them had small boats, and some others used long, narrow rafts."

A prolonged silence ensued following Wymez' remarks. Tonie cuddled up to his bare chest and ran her fingers into the long, greying hair that covered him there.

"Just how tall did they look, Talut?" Matera asked. "Taller than you?"

Talut grinned, pulling a mostly cleaned bone from the side of his mouth and offering it to Manut who lay content in the crook of his arm. The baby boy grabbed the small bone and sucked on a thin tendril of meat still clinging to it, his bright blue eyes sparkling with his contentment.

"Well, they were all above us, standing on a short bluff so it makes it kind of hard to judge." He grinned mischievously as he went on. "Yes, I think they were all taller than me or Branag either—well, except for the young one. But none of them had thick, muscular bodies like me and Branag, they were all much thinner. But strong looking."

"And they were painted too, very hard to see." Branag added. "It was almost like they simply appeared, and when they went back into the trees, they just faded out of sight into the shadows like they were never even there. It was a bit spooky as hard as they were to see."

"They all carried bows, and quivers full of arrows on their backs." Danug said, joining the conversation. "But the leader also had a thick shafted spear, I don't remember seeing if any of the others had spears."

"Some did." Brenan replied. "Even the youngster had two spears in his quiver."

"Brenan's right, I saw spears on some of the others." Branag said. "But what I want to know is how they killed the cheetah. The arrow isn't that powerful is it?"

It got quiet as everyone pondered Branag's question. Slowly, most eyes turned to Brug and Mortan who sat on the paving stones off to Talut's right side with Druwez.

'We don't know the real power of the bow yet.' Brug signed. 'We are still learning, but the cheetah was not killed by the arrow alone. It wasn't hit that hard and it fell too fast.'

As Tornec translated Brug's words, the remainder of the crowd got a little antsy. A low murmur began, especially from the hunters.

"What do you mean, Brug." Tulie asked and signed at the same time.

'Cheetah was not hurt that bad by arrow, he ran away too easily.' Brug continued after a brief pause. 'He ran, then slowed up and fell. Not like he was injured all that bad, he just collapsed like he was tired.'

Mog-ur's eyes widened suddenly. Something about all this was familiar. He closed his eyes and delved deeper within his mind, clearing away his random thoughts and searching. Searching.

The general conversation went on, growing louder and louder as more and more people got into it adding their own ideas and questions. Tornec had a hard time keeping up, and often was unable to.

Mog-ur was oblivious to it all, thinking back and searching. He was able to tune out the noise of the camp with relative ease. He was getting close to something, something he had seen in another search of the most ancient of his memories. Something from not all that long ago...then it hit him, and he remembered. He remembered it all.

"Tral-lut." The Mog-ur's voice clipped strongly, garnering the attention of the camp.

'Arrows have the juice of a certain plant on tips. This causes the animal hit with it to go to sleep. I have seen it all in the memories. These tall people are called the 'Invisible Ones' they use paint and scent and stillness to hide themselves. They do it well. The memories tell me that very little is known of them, they are mostly legend. Few people have ever actually seen them, but their legend is old. Very old.'

Talut pulled his eyes away from the Mog-ur, and looked over to Wymez for any kind of confirmation or further information. Wymez had his eyes closed, deep in thought. When he finally opened his eyes again, he saw Talut staring at him. He looked at the large leader and nodded his head slowly, he knew of the legend too.

**********

Brug had a rare day off, there was an overabundance of cooked giraffe meat still left, and Mortan and Druwez wanted to go out with Frebec and the women to gather greens and roots. Frebec had told them of the stand of trees that were the same kind of tree that Brug had made his last bow from. This bow was the best one yet, and both of them wanted to make their own. Troog and Salen had been wrangled into helping out on the various construction projects going on, so Brug had nothing that he had to do.

He walked out to the southern most perimeter fire in the dark, carrying a half full tea basket from the main fire. Troog and Ludeg were on guard duty here, and the sun rise was still a little while off. The guards were grateful for the tea, and the three of them sat and relaxed in the flickering light of the small fire.

Brug pulled an arrow from the quiver, and held it out to Troog.

'Flint points keep breaking, I think maybe bone better.'

Troog took the arrow, studying it. It was finely made, with two cut feathers on the end with a double wrap of sinew fortifying the notch in the end. The shaft was sanded smooth and very uniform in diameter. The flint point was chipped, and the symmetry of the intricate design was spoiled.

'Bone be heavy enough?' He signed as he looked up, handing the arrow to Ludeg.

'Will have to be longer to have enough mass, I think.' Brug signed, having thought about the overall balance of the projectile. 'What kind of bone is best? Is heaviest?'

Troog thought about this for a while, closing his eyes and considering his answer.

Ludeg saw the problem, the flint was just too brittle as small as it had to be. Any stone point that was much bigger would throw off the balance of the arrow in flight, though. He understood Brug's question, his own vocabulary of the Clan signs was now pretty extensive, especially where hunting was concerned. He watched as Troog opened his eyes and began to sign.

'Mammoth tusk would be best.' Troog had another thought and went on. 'Or heavy horns.'

Brug thought about this, then asked. 'Like from waterbuck or okapi?'

Troog nodded.

Ludeg grinned, then signed. 'Pelvic bone heavy too. How about crocodile skull?'

Brug cocked his head at the idea, crocodile skull. It was heavy and very strong. He had more to think about now, more possibilities to explore. He finished his tea, then told them he was going out to explore off to the east past the practice field. If Brug remembered right, there were the remains of a croc near the river, if they were still there.

**********

The first light colors began to the east, soft glowing pastels that grew slowly. Talut and Branag drank tea with Danug and Brenan. Three of the four men held their small sons in their laps, except for Brydag who was intently trying to climb up Branag's side. Using a fistful of hair tied behind Branag's head as a handhold, the young boy was succeeding rather well.

"The animals of the flats are generally larger than most of those back home, what do you think of making bigger, heavier spears?" Danug asked.

"That may be a good idea, like the mammoth spears we used to make. The small spears from the spear throwers don't have very much knock down power." Talut said, tickling Manut's fat belly nestled comfortably between his thighs. "I don't like having to track wounded animals down there, too many predators that are too hard to see."

"I'll get with Wymez and Rymar — see what they think about larger spear points." Brenan said, trying to divert Bralut's attention from his belt with all the pouches on it. The boy was after a particular pouch, one that Brenan usually kept dried meat in.

"I think I could handle a bigger, thicker spear for the spear thrower, it will just take some practice to learn to control it." Danug said as Vincavec walked up with his young daughter Lumie cradled in his arms.

"Good morning, Vincavec." Talut said, offering him an empty cup.

Vincavec took the cup and filled it from the basket before sitting down next to Branag. Lumie reached out for Brydag who was still trying to get a foothold in the middle of Branag's wide, muscular back. Brydag grinned and cooed at her, then kicked Branag again trying to climb up onto the back of his head. Vincavec pulled Lumie around and sat her in his lap, kissing the top of her head.

"Maybe I'll try a bigger spear for the spear thrower too." Talut said with a sly grin. "Maybe a longer spear thrower as well. That might be the way to better control it."

Danug thought about this for a little. The spear thrower itself was as long as his forearm, that was the way they were always fitted and sized. For a bigger spear, a bigger thrower — that made sense.

Vincavec listened to the talk while sipping the hot, chamomile based tea. Lumie tried to crawl down to the flat paving stones like she had somewhere to go. Vincavec grabbed her by the armpits and pulled her back up.

"Bigger spear throwers?" Vincavec asked with a sly grin. "What did I miss out on?"

**********

Brug stepped into the scrub brush at the edge of the practice clearing. The sun was rising slowly behind him, and the grass was wet with dew. He wore his regular hunting attire, with the full compliment of grasses and twigs that made up the camouflage that rendered him so difficult to see. Brug walked slowly, taking full advantage of the damp, quiet grass and his eyes were well adjusted to the dim, but ever growing light.

He carried his bow with an arrow knocked and ready. Brug had his favorite arrow with the black obsidian point that Brenan made for him in place with his fingers gently holding it steady and ready to go. He wasn't really out to hunt, but if anything did present itself, he would be more than willing to try out the new weapon. For Brug, hunting came as natural as breathing. As of yet, Brug had not let loose an arrow at anything other than a stationary grass filled target, but he was more than anxious to try it out.

The brush thickened for a while, stands of berry topped bushes, tangles of thorny vines, and grasses of different textures and heights. The grass rustled off to his right, and the black and white heads of several guineas came in and out of view as they fled to the southeast. Judging from the amount of movement, there had to have been quite a few of them in the band.

Brug cut back to his left to clear a wide, thickly leafed bush that was considerably taller than he was. A few straggly, short trees lay beyond a thick patch of knee high, deep green grass. The lower limbs of the trees were pretty much barren, the leaves having been eaten along with most of the smaller twigs. A pair of squirrels chased each other through the higher limbs, chattering and scampering through the trees as easily as a rabbit ran through the grass.

A rabbit broke from the grass to his left, darting through the lower limbs of a bush and disappearing from sight quickly. Brug cleared the wide bush, and moved on slowly to the southwest.

The sun was now high enough now to light the ground and create long shadows. Brug could already feel the air warming as the heat of the day began to build. He moved even more slowly now, the grass and dead leaves drying out and causing more and more noise from his soft footfalls. Brug licked his fingers and put them up to gauge the direction of the soft, gusting breeze. He veered a little more easterly to keep the winds blowing at a steep angle to his body.

The trees slowly got thicker, and taller as he went. As the size of the trees increased, the amount of thick grasses beneath them decreased, and Brug had to go even slower to stay quiet. He used his foot to sweep the ground before stepping down, moving the leaves out from under foot to prevent the crunching sounds that would give away his position. It was extremely slow going like this, but Brug was in no particular hurry, besides a patient hunter was a successful hunter he remembered Crag always telling him.

Very little escaped him, his eyes catching bits of movement and focusing in on every instance to see everything. Colorful green and yellow headed birds, a female peacock, an eagle with a stark white head and shoulders and an almost black body. Ground squirrels, rabbits, hares, a jackal, field rats as big as a small rabbit, Brug saw them all.

The sounds of the building forest enveloped him as well. From the gentle rustling of leaves and grass in the breeze, to the many sounds of the animals, he took it all in. Every sound was identified and committed to memory, a hunters memory. The sounds of birds, identified by the varying chirps, whistles, and screeches. Their wing beats, the small songbirds with their rapid, fluttering flapping, the colorful, larger birds with their furious flapping then soaring once airborne. Brug knew them all, if not by name, by sight and sound. The chattering of squirrels, ground squirrels had a deeper tone of voice, unlike their slightly smaller, tree loving cousins. The thumping sound of a rabbit or hare at it whacked the ground with a powerful rear foot and sent out its frantic warning to others of its own kind. The snort of an unseen suidae that caught a whiff of Brug back to the windward side. Brug listened carefully, missing very, very little.

Brug slowed in the shadow of a huge tree, looking out beyond into a small, mostly shaded clearing. A pair of impala, a female and her offspring, fed on a low hanging branch. The thin limb was dotted with green buds and freshly opening leaves of new growth. The larger female held the long, flexible limb low enough for her young to be able to reach some of the tasty buds. When the young one had a few bitten off, she let the limb go and nibbled on a few herself. It was a touching scene, the cooperation between the two was efficient, but not the best activity for staying well aware of their surroundings.

Lifting the bow so slowly that it took over a dozen breaths to get it all the way up and into position, Brug got ready. Though everything about him outwardly looked to be stoic and completely controlled, Brug's heart beat rapidly and he had to concentrate to keep his breathing steady and slow. And controlled.

Timing was everything, and Brug wasn't about to rush his first shot with the bow. He held it up in place, but put no tension on the string, waiting, watching. To the east, he heard the low pitched chattering of ducks, I must be close to the river, he realized. The young impala stood up on her rear legs, stretching her neck as high as she could to get to the limb, to no avail. She dropped back down on all fours and stepped back to wait. Her mother finished chewing and swallowed, then gracefully stood up and bit down on a twig and softly lowered herself back to the ground. The young one stepped up and started pulling off buds, filling her mouth while the opportunity was there.

Brug slowly pulled the arrow back, sighting down the shaft as he did. He watched the interaction between the impala, and sighted in on the youngster, she was too young to make it on her own yet, he reasoned. The muscles in his left arm rippled and those in his right arm flexed out completely under the strain of the heavily tensioned bow. The fat, shiny black obsidian point rested easily on the small cross bar at his left hand, just past the handle of the bow. Brug sighted on the young one, then pulled the tip of the arrow up two hand widths above where he wanted the arrow to hit. With a subdued twang, he let the arrow fly.

The larger impala let go of the limb at the sound, spinning her head toward Brug just as the arrow passed her and struck her young at the base of her neck. The arrow sank in deeply. The young one staggered at the sudden impact, her face hitting the ground before she struggled to get back up on all fours. Her mother nipped at her flank and took off, her hoof beats fading away as quickly as she ran away. The young one struggled to keep her balance, a bright red streak of blood pouring out from beneath the protruding feathered shaft then staggered after her mother, her gate labored and erratic. Clumsy, and slow.

Brug pulled another arrow from the quiver across his back, and gave chase cautiously. The impala disappeared through the trees, but Brug followed her rather easily. The blood spots were easy to see, and there were a lot of them. He turned past another large tree, and veered back to his left. Up ahead, he saw the impala. She had fallen head long into a short bush, and her rear feet still twitched and kicked deeply in the throes of the death rattle. Brug slowed and approached very cautiously, watching all around him, high and low. He inhaled deeply, mouth open wide, tasting the air and quickly getting control of his breathing. The excitement he felt was incredible, he had done it. Downed an animal with one shot of the new weapon, how amazing.

The fawn was pretty much dead by the time Brug pulled her out from the bush, but he slit her throat anyway and signed his reverent thanks to Ursus for the kill. The shaft of the arrow was broken off with a small section of it left sticking out from the base of her neck. When the impala was completely still, Brug began to field dress her. He began with a small slit, two hand widths long at the bottom of her chest to give himself access to her inner organs, and he pulled them from the narrow slit one by one. The stomach and bladder he cut loose and set aside, the intestines he pulled out and piled up. When he freed the liver, he set it with the other keepers. The heart he kept as well, but the rest he discarded.

Brug put all the organs he wanted to keep back inside the open cavity, then poked a few holes in the hide with his knife. He inserted a thin strap of leather through the holes and tied the opening closed. Brug knelt down, resting on his knees and picked up the small liver. He looked it over and took a small bite. It was warm still, and a bit tough, but it tasted as good as anything he had eaten in a long, long time. A thin trickle of blood ran down each side of his mouth. He took his time, keeping an eye on his surroundings and his bow close to his knee with an arrow loose beside it within easy reach.

When he finished the liver, he washed his hands with water from the small water skin hanging from his belt, then took a long drink of the slightly warm water. Brug pulled a long, thick strap of leather from a pouch on his belt, and tied all four feet of the impala together with it. He stood up and with a yank, pulled the animal over his shoulder by the feet. The body rested against his left leg, and the head just dragged the ground. Brug grabbed the legs and pulled them over his head to rest on his right shoulder, and the head cleared the ground by just a little bit.

Brug squatted down to retrieve his bow and arrow, carrying them both in his right hand while he held the body of the impala with his left. The weight was negligible, but the body of the young animal pressed against his left leg with a little bit of a clumsy, heavy feel. As he walked away slowly, Brug compensated for the weight and was able to walk pretty easily after getting used to the body banging against his leg with every step.

At the edge of the small clearing, just as Brug stepped back into the shade, he froze. A dark shape stepped out into the open directly in front of him, two paces away. It was the dark skinned youngster from down in the flats. He had a wide smile on his face, and a bow in one hand. The other hand was stretched out in front of him, palm up.

Brug looked deep into his dark brown eyes, studying the young man in front of him for a long, long time without moving. He then bared his teeth in what was the closest thing to a smile that a man of the Clan could produce, his own brown eyes sparkling.

**********

The mid day sun was bright and hot. Sporadic breezes blew in over the flats, heated by the rising heat waves and scented with the dung of a lot of different species of grazers.

"So how do we get them away from the grapes?" Danug asked, peering up the cliff at the baboons scattered about amongst the greenery of the tangles of vines. Though hard to count because of their constant movement, it appeared that there were about twenty or so.

"Talut, can't you just ask them to leave?" Brenan asked with a grin.

Talut elbowed Brenan in the ribs, then bent down to pick up a rock at his feet. The rock was fist size and of the common grey stone from the cliffs, it was weathered almost smooth. Talut tossed it up a little way, catching it and repeating the motion while he stared back at the troop animals that mostly watched their every move.

The old grey back leered down at them, baring his long teeth in a threatening manner. The rest of the baboons shifted about nervously, more timid than threatening. A feisty young baboon grasped the thick hair at the back of his mother's neck and leaned out and down to grasp a bunch of small, not yet fully ripened grapes. The older female leaned forward a little with the weight of her young one pulling on her, and she leaned back when he straightened up. He offered her half the bunch of grapes, she ignored him.

"Hey, I think we could get up here." Vincavec said, exploring the ragged bottom of the cliff. He pointed out a couple of wide slanted stones, then on up through some rubble made up with mostly larger stones.

"Go on up and run them off then." Talut said as Danug and Brenan both chuckled beside him.

Vincavec's eyes sparkled as he surveyed the overall situation. They didn't look like they were overly afraid, in fact, the baboons actually looked almost disinterested in their complacency. On a whim, he hopped up onto the slanted flat stone and as soon as he got his balance, he reached his hands up and waved them back and forth, screaming out at furry beasts above.

The baboons reacted in an odd way. Several of the adults screeched back at Vincavec, and a few of them even dropped a few feet down the cliff. The old grey back stood up on his rear legs briefly, swinging his arm like he was going to whack Vincavec from where he was, all the way up above the rest of the troop. The growling sneer he gave was rife with long, formidable looking teeth.

Vincavec hopped off the rock, backing off a few extra steps to the general laughter of the rest of his companions. His tattooed face was red and his hands shook slightly from the threatening movements and actions.

"That worked well." Danug said, putting his hand on Vincavec's shoulder. "Show me how that goes again."

"I must think on this, my last attempt wasn't as successful as I had hoped it would be." Vincavec said softly, his fertile mind already working on another way to get the baboons away from the grapes. Well out of range of their spears, he didn't really want to hurt them anyway. As ugly as they were, baboons didn't look like a tasty meal at all.

Vincavec missed wine, Talut had brewed up a couple of batches of his famous bouza, but the slightly bitter malt drink was not nearly as sweet and light like his own wines were. Over the years, he had become quite the winemaker, but his favorite wines were always grape wines. Vincavec had never lived near grapes, and had always had to make do with various kinds of berries. With the grapes now available to him, he was more than anxious to try his skills out anew.

Talut tossed the stone in his hand, watching the baboons. His attention was drawn to the youngster eating grapes and back to the old grey back. The youngster seemed to be watching him, and Talut tossed the stone a little higher. The young baboon watched the rock, and Talut decided to try something. He reared back and threw the stone up at the baboon, the rock falling off a little short, clattering on the stones as it fell harmlessly. The baboon jumped up to all fours, barking and screeching at the men down below.

Laughing, Talut picked up another rock, and threw it with a little more force. It sailed just over the head of the young baboon, who snapped at it as it flew by. He was getting more and more agitated, as were the rest of them. The old grey back snarled over and over, snapping his jaws making a loud clacking sound as he did.

Two females with small young started up along the jagged rocks back to the west. Three or four more followed them at a discreet distance. The agitated young one dropped down the side of the cliff in two controlled drops, ending up in a slanted patch of fist sized rocks and gravel. He reached out and grabbed a large, overflowing handful of rocks and slung them down the drop off. The rocks all fell well short of the men below, but several backed off a few steps anyway.

Talut and Danug both started throwing rocks up at the brave baboon, and he threw back a handful at a time. A stone that Danug threw hit him in the forearm with a glancing blow just as he was throwing. The baboon yelped, then looked down snarling as a stone from Talut clipped his knee. This was more than the baboon was ready to deal with, and he began scrambling back up the cliff. The agility he showed as he climbed up the jagged rocks was truly amazing to behold.

The old grey back looked over to see that most of his troop were moving on to the west, climbing higher and higher up the steep cliff as they went along. He barked out a few times, getting the attention of the feisty youngster, and started moving to the west himself. The youngster followed at a respectful distance back, and kept looking back down at the small pack of humans below.

The scattered line of baboons stretched out as they moved on back toward the falls. They moved away at their own relaxed pace, neither rushing nor dawdling, but making steady progress.

Vincavec watched them for a bit, and as soon as it was obvious that the old grey back was leaving, he hopped back up onto the first slanted stone. The climb up was tedious, many of the stones were loose and it made for very dangerous footing. The rest of the men fanned out and followed him up. Some veered off to explore different ways up, and there ended up being a couple of decent paths up as they climbed the steep, broken stone wall.

The first vines Vincavec reached were intertwined through a series of boulders that created a narrow isle through larger rocks above and below him. A pair of nearly black ground squirrels chattered at him before scampering off through the rocks and out of sight. He checked through the leafy vines as he went along, gathering two small bunches of grapes that had obviously been eaten from before. What was left was in good shape, and he sampled a few of the very tart, deep reddish purple fruits. With a deeply satisfied grin, he continued.

At the end of the small isle, the vines climbed up to a gravelly terrace and spread out again, much fuller here. Vincavec found a way up, assisted by Danug, and the two of them started gathering grapes in abundance.

Down below to the west, Brenan and Talut had an easy time harvesting thick, fat groups of much more ripened grapes. Here the vines entangled the uneven rocks and there was even a little dirt in the crevasses. Branag and Ludeg followed them, then climbed up a little higher after more of the deep green vines. Ludeg grabbed the tail of a long python slithering up between the rocks, and Branag finally located his head and cut it off with a small hand axe. The headless snake, almost as long as Branag was tall, writhed constantly in the bottom of the backpack. It gave Branag the creeps, but he tried not to show it.

By the time the men worked their way back down off the cliff, their back packs all overflowed with grapes. The sun was well past its prime, falling slowly to the western horizon. The men set a quick pace, wanting off the flats before dusk.

At the first wooden landing, Brenan spotted a lion pride at work. They all spread out to watch.

The lead female lion led the seven other females out into the grassy flats almost due south, right at a large herd of nearly black buffalo. The buffalo tightened up as she encroached, several males forming a loose line facing her, heads down and pounding their front feet. The pounding stirred up loose dirt which rose up in the soft breezes, and caused a low drumming sound. The rest of the herd began to back off, moving to the southwest. Mothers nudged their young in a continuous effort to keep them well within the relative safety of the group.

The lead lioness veered sharply to the southwest, skirting the loose phalanx of males, and sped up a little. Her pride hunters following in a scattered line. She shifted directions again, charging directly at the rest of the vast herd.

More large males tried to flare out and set up a defensive line.

The lion darted back to the south and sped up even more. She entered the herd, and a panic began amongst the buffalo. The herd split, and started into two stampedes.

The lions were lost to the men watching for a long moment as they all disappeared into the black herd and the dust rose up to make their vision distorted and blocked.

As the herd split and retreated in two different directions, the dust cloud became dense and impossible to see through from the cliff. When the light brown cloud finally started to dissipate, they spotted the lions.

A full grown female was struggling on her knees with five lions all over her. Her struggles were futile, two of the lions had her by the neck. Near to her, the other two lions had her young down, the lead female at his throat. Off to the right, a pair of large males watched impassively. They were acting as a block to keep the lions from chasing after any more from the herds.

The mother buffalo stilled, and the lead lion sat up and roared so loudly that the men on the cliff all got chill bumps at the ferocious sound. Off to the east, the large male lion trotted toward the kills, several young with him. He took his own sweet time getting there.

The men at the landing slowly turned away. The lions had given them a lot to think about. Hunting methods on the flats were all in their infancy, and the lions had just showed them one way to be successful. There had to be others. Others that required substantially less risk.

The climb up the rest of the steep path was pretty easy, but it took a while. They were no longer in any kind of hurry, even though Talut and Danug were already talking about food. By the time they got to the top, the sky was bathed with soft pastel colors as the sunset began.


	38. Chapter 27 Part 1

**Chapter Twenty Seven**

_**The Waterfall Camp**_

**Part One**

Talut pulled the heavy, giraffe skin bundle up and over his shoulder, the weight of it banged against his lower back and buttocks with a resounding thud. He straightened up and squared his huge, wide shoulders, and walked out of the tent leaning over slightly under the weight. Talut walked out of the tent, ducking down under the low slung flap, and out toward the last hut on the left of the semi circle of huts that gently arced out from the main lodge. The freshly placed rock pavers felt good against his bare feet, still very warm from having absorbed the heat of the afternoon sun.

It had been a little over three full moon cycles since the first hunt down in the flats. Another hunt was planned for the day after tomorrow and Talut couldn't wait. Building was a fun task for him, even though it was getting a little monotonous, but hunting was what the big man lived for. Brug had a new strategy to hunt the large herds, either wildebeast or buffalo, which ever was in the best position. Talut liked the young man's idea and was anxious to try it out too.

My own hut, Talut thought with a sweat streaked smile, my own bed. It all felt a little strange, the last of the huts was now essentially complete, and in a little while, the traveling tent would be taken down for the last time. The hut still smelled a little bit of freshly broken dirt from the placement of the last of the paving stones laid inside as he ducked down just a little to get through the doorway. If Talut stood up straight, at his full height, the top of his usually unruly hair would only just brush the top cross brace of the doorway, but he ducked instinctively anyway. The central fire pit inside was loaded up and ready to light, but he knew there would be no fire until well after sunset tonight. The four windows were propped open, and a light breeze blew through the hut. Even with that, it was still rather hot and even a little stuffy feeling inside.

Nezzie and Latie worked together getting the large bed platform finished up near the left side wall, packing fresh grasses into the short rock walled structure. There were two more bed platforms, but these were the smaller, single person size. Latie had an armload of sleeping furs at the ready while Nezzie arranged the top layer of different types of grasses to her liking. Bralut helped, leaning over the short wall of rock and hanging on to it with one hand, spreading the grass as fast as Nezzie could go behind him and fix it back. The boy had a constant grin on his face, he liked to help.

Bralut had been standing up on his own for a quite a while now, but unless he had something to hold on to, he wouldn't yet venture out to walk on his own. He used one hand to steady himself, and followed Nezzie around the perimeter of the bed, undoing everything she was accomplishing almost as fast as she could get it done. Nezzie watched him from the corner of her eye, doing her best to not laugh aloud.

With a sudden jerk, Nezzie spun around and grabbed Bralut by the ribs, tickling the boy. The quickness first caught Bralut by surprise and startled him into a wide eyed, fearful look, only to be replaced by instant peals of laughter with Nezzie's hands manipulating his ribs. Without thinking, Bralut turned and toddled back the few steps to Latie for protection. It was his first solo steps, and it did not go unnoticed.

Latie lowered herself to catch Bralut with one arm under his arm and around his chest, and nuzzled the happy boy. She looked up at Talut and Nezzie with the smile of pride only a parent ever feels.

"Did you see that?" Latie asked, her voice soft and demure. "He walked all by himself."

"It's about time, come here big boy!" Talut said as he dropped the heavy bundle to the floor and knelt down with his huge arms outstretched toward the still giggling Bralut. Bralut turned to Talut and wobbled toward him on strangely unsteady legs. He made it five or six steps before stubbing his toe on one of the paving stones and falling face first toward the hard floor. Talut caught him just after he lost his balance, pulling the boy up to face him.

"What a big boy you are!" Talut said, nuzzling his belly and making him laugh all the harder.

"Mother, you did that on purpose." Latie said with assurance.

Nezzie just grinned, a knowing, satisfied look on her face. "I had to do the same thing with Danug. With him, I tricked him with food, imagine that."

Talut laughed as he spun Bralut around his body, holding him by the hands. Bralut's happy cackling filled the hut.

"Danug would have been content to crawl his whole life I think. That boy could crawl as fast as some kids could run." Nezzie went on, watching Bralut and Talut playing. "When I did finally trick him into walking, I regretted it almost immediately. If I thought he could crawl fast I was wrong, that boy never really learned to walk, he learned to run."

Talut laughed as he pulled Bralut to his chest, remembering Danug as a child. Danug ran everywhere he went, constantly running into people and stationary objects as well. He remembered how Deegie used to follow him around to keep him out of trouble, even though the two of them were essentially the same age. Deegie had been walking for several moon cycles before Danug took his first steps on his own. Back then, Danug had constant scabs on his knees, elbows, and chin.

Talut set a wriggling Bralut back down, and he crawled back to the bed platform and pulled himself up by the rock wall. Crawling was still easier, and safer too.

**********

Across the camp, Tulie and Barzec were moving into their new hut. With their new hut-mates Jozen and a very pregnant Stolie helping out, the chore was moving right along. Druwez was off with the tool makers, and would likely not be seen before late afternoon or early evening. Tusie was off at the main lodge, helping to care for the smaller children while they were napping and lounging.

Jozen came into the hot hut with two bulging skins of belongings, dropping the first on Tulie's side of the hut. He carried the second on over to his own side where Stolie pointed to where she wanted it. At least the bed platform is done, he thought as he dropped the heavy skin to the paved floor. Jozen walked to the rear window flap and propped it open a little higher, the increased opening allowing a little more breeze in. It worked so well, he adjusted the other three windows the same way. The ventilation of the hot hut improved dramatically.

Barzec followed Jozen back to the tent, getting there about the same time that Talut did. The three men were all sweating, and wearing only the short leggings so popular now, all three had streaks of stuck together hair that ran in crooked lines down their chests from fresh dripping and already dried sweat. The inside of the tent was rather barren, and what was left was scattered and more than a bit unruly. Talut began to gather more odds and ends from their spot near the rear entrance, while Barzec and Jozen concentrated where they had lived with their families for the past several moons.

As the huts were completed and people had moved into them, the tent had cleared out and those who were left tended to spread out considerably. Gaining even a little space was a relief for those still in the tents, and they took all the room that was available as it presented itself. The smaller traveling tent had been taken down a little over a moon and a half back, but this tent had been up ever since they had first arrived. It had been moved twice during the constantly spreading construction process, but it had been home to an awful lot of folks for the past year or so, ever since leaving the lands of the Mamutoi. It was a little hard to actually move out for a lot of folks, even though they were moving into a new home, for slightly sentimental reasons.

More skins were filled, and another trip was made back to the newest huts. There were now a total of ten of the small, fifteen paces square huts, and, of course, the much larger main lodge. All the huts had a walkway of paving stones leading to their front doors, a walkway that went both back to the hut next door as well as out to the central fire area.

A large paved area surrounded the central fire pit, and three large shade structures were now in place at a respectable distance from the fire pit. These structures had replaced the original lean-tos and were simply woven mat roofs erected at an angle over four thick poles set in a rectangle. They worked well to provide shaded work areas in the during the hot parts of the day or to provide a little protection from the numerous rains.

There were now twelve smooth sided seating logs surrounding the central fire, and a few more scattered strategically out near the southern perimeter fire position as well as a few more at the northern guard placement. There were also shorter seating logs under the protection of the shaded structures.

The walkways of pavers didn't quite reach all the way to these far positions yet, but the work was steadily ongoing. Another shade structure was placed between the three ground ovens at the southwestern edge of the paving stones. A couple of seating logs were placed within the shade, along with a large flat stone, raised up on top of three rocks in a short table that was used to trim meat.

There was also a path of paving stones that led out to the waste pit. It got used a lot, and another offshoot path split off and went on to the edge of the cliff where game waste was discarded over the edge of the drop off. Immediately down below was a popular place for hyenas and dholes to fight over the scraps, and at night, a panther could often be heard scrounging around as well.

With the paving stones in such a vast array, covering so much of the daily use areas, most people of the camp rarely wore foot covers anymore. They donned them only when leaving the camp and venturing out into the grass, woods, or the cliff beyond. The grass around the camp grew in lush with the human traffic putting less and less pressure on it. It now had to be trimmed in a few places on a regular basis where some of it consisted of a taller growing variation and grew rather tall very quickly.

There was a bit of an oddity taking place just off the paving stones between two of the right side huts. A small patch of oats and wheat had begun to grow there, and it appeared to be getting more and more spread out as it slowly grew taller. Vincavec and Matera put their heads together and surmised that this might be a bi-product of crushing and tossing grain to remove the chaff right there on the edge of the paving stones. Regardless, it was nice to have food growing right there in the midst of the camp. Matera even suggested that the cleaning of grains be moved around from place to place to encourage more of the beneficial growth. It was definitely an idea worth trying out.

The last rain had come in on the leading edge of a pretty strong thunder storm six days back, and as strong as the wind had blown, several huts developed minor roof leaks. There was no real structural threat to the huts themselves, and the leaks were mostly patched up as soon as the roof matting dried out. Some of the leaks fixed themselves gradually as the split cane mats swelled under the constant rains.

The entire camp stayed a really busy place.

Inca had to work long hours with her crew out gathering to keep the camp in fresh greens, grains, and roots. Harvesting expeditions to procure the fruits and vegetables had to be done every three days or so, then the preparation work on some of them took quite a while as well.

Etra and Tessie were getting better and better at coordinating their cooks at preparing the large meals necessary to feed this camp. It seemed like something was always cooking, whether over the spit, simmering in a stew skin, or slow cooking in one of the three ground ovens. Often, all three were in use simultaneously. Talut and Danug, along with Brug, Mortan, and Druwez took full advantage of the multiple sources for tasty, almost fully cooked snacks. They swiped things on such a regular basis that the women often set things aside for them, having long ago given up trying to deter them.

Construction continued inside the huts, shelves built and assembled and hanging skin dividers set up. Most of this kind of work was handled by the residents of each individual hut. With two families living in most of the huts, it was about the only true measure of privacy they could manage, though all were thrilled at having their own little homes.

Most of the building was now centered on extending the paved areas and walkways. This was hard, dirty work that was very time consuming. They had long since used up all the local flat rock, and had to bring it in now piece by piece from the waste pit area. There was also a supply of more stone near the cliffs, but it tended to be mostly larger pieces than what they were used to using, and this stone was definitely not very easy to handle.

**********

Mog-ur sat on a small stone bench overlooking the flats. This was his favorite place, just within the outer edges of shade from a single tree well off to the east of the trail down the cliff. Most of the trees didn't grow very close to the edge of the cliff, but this one did, and it stood out looking slightly out of place. Not as tall as most of the larger trees farther inland, this one had a wide, thick trunk and its thick limbs splayed wide to form a large circle of shade. The drop off was about six steps out in front of him, the view down was absolutely spectacular. Here, the breeze off the flats was usually pretty constant, and he could spend his meditation time in cool peace.

Rug and Draag had built the bench for him out of three stones, and though Ooga might could have sat next to him, it really was a seat designed just for one. Located about halfway between the trail down and the place where the camp threw animal waste off the side, it was usually a serene place of solitude.

Laying the finely made spear across his lap, Mog-ur gazed out over the cliff and onto the flats out in the distance. He liked looking at the long, narrow line of trees that grew on each side of the river far out in the distance. It was much too far to really see anything in any kind of detail, but he liked to observe the subtle movements that took place there anyway. This was usually how he started to clear his mind before slipping into a deep meditative state.

Mog-ur had a lot to consider. The next hunt was in two days, and if successful, would be followed by the dedication ceremony for the camp. There would be a matrimonial, a request for blessing and sanction, and a huge feast.

Should Ooga be given to Brug as a mate, or should he let things stay as they are for a little while longer, Mog-ur wondered again. He thought about it for a while, then decided to put it aside and think more about it later, other things were more important right now.

Mog-ur would have a lot to do, he would be participating heavily in several aspects of the coming festivities and ceremonies. Though it had been a while, and the proceedings would be an odd, all inclusive mixture between the traditions of both the Clan and the Others, it would be all right. He had already been in long planning discussions with Vincavec, Matera, Marsie, and Latie. The way these Mamuts of the Others were able to blend traditional ceremonies to include the ways of the Clan was exceptional. They all asked so many questions and had such good ideas and had so many subtle ways to blend these two very different cultures that it was often hard for him to keep up with them.

Poor Tornec, Mog-ur mused, he had a hard time keeping up with the translations. It was obvious that the man was unaware of many of the subtle 'tricks' that the mamuts and the Mog-ur used during some of the more detailed aspects of some of the presentations. Tornec did well though, all things considered, and didn't even ask questions that Mog-ur knew the smart man had.

The biggest surprise, all in all though, was Latie. Latie was strangely very opposed to his wishes to use the special root of the Clan in the final bit of the dedication ceremony. It was not a necessary part of any celebration, but the Mog-ur had such a burning curiosity and desire to experience the effects of this root first hand. Even Vincavec was overly leery of using the root, and as far as Mog-ur knew, this man really feared nothing.

Brenan was his best hope, this was becoming obvious now. Mog-ur was well aware of the incredible trepidation Brenan felt whenever the root was even mentioned, but the young healer was also well respected by the other mamuts. Mog-ur had spoken of his ideas to Brenan privately two days past, and had seen the abject fear in his eyes. This surprised him and caught Mog-ur off guard a bit, for this was another man who seemed to have little fear of anything else. How to convince him, Mog-ur wondered again. If Brenan were to agree, it should be relatively easy to persuade Latie and Vincavec. Matera would probably always be against the idea, though Mog-ur couldn't for the life of him figure out why, but she was just a woman after all. What would it take to get Brenan's approval?

A sudden rustle of heavy feathers brought Mog-ur out of his self induced trance, and he saw the shiny, colorful peacock set his wings and soar up and perch on a lower branch of the tree to his left. The large bird calmly began preening his wing feathers, singling one out and running his beak down the entire length of it before going on to the next one. Mog-ur watched the bird with interest as he groomed himself so casually.

Mog-ur eventually went back to his thoughts, trying to think as a man of the Others would. It was a rather difficult concept, these people don't think like we do, he considered. If Brenan was afraid, perhaps this was the key to gaining his ascension. Mog-ur began to explore this notion.

**********

Brug slipped between two thick bushes, peering out from between them to scrutinize the shadowy ground on past. A fat rat dug through some fallen leaves and came up with a thin seed pod of some kind, and quickly scurried off. There was no other movement visible, and Brug stepped out from the cover of the bushes and walked slowly through the shade of the two large trees whose branches intertwined intricately.

A well hidden rabbit popped out of some of the short grass to his right and fled, disappearing in short order. Brug veered a little more to his left and moved between the trunks of the trees and on into the taller grasses of the small clearing beyond. He stopped to watch a green bird with a bright yellow head eat a small purple plum in the low lying limb of a scraggly tree to his right. The bird held the plum with one foot while pealing of small portions of it with its long, curved beak.

Brug moved on, twisting his spear around in his hand to get a better grip.

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows, and Brug used them as cover as he walked slowly to the northwest toward the creek. He had his bow strung and slung across his back, along with a full quiver of arrows and another with six spears. Brug wore his older hunting clothes, without the added camouflage loops of grasses and twigs.

For the last two moon cycles or so, Brug had been taking these solo excursions often in the afternoons. The amazing success of his early morning hunting ventures allowed him this time alone, as he was not required to help on the various construction projects due to his high status as hunt leader. His closest friends and companions, Mortan and Druwez, were both actively involved with Rymar, Wymez, and some of the other tool and weapon makers. They were all busy trying to learn to work the black, glossy obsidian and rarely accompanied him on these little jaunts. Brug liked this time alone, he learned so much about the land and its animals when not pressured to hunt. Exploring was fun, and he often brought back useful information and discoveries of plants and vegetables for the others. This was such an incredibly rich land, though it did have its dangers.

Brug had killed several dholes and even a small spotted cat that Wymez said was a small stature variation of a leopard that was normally a night hunter. That one had startled him when he came across the small leopard on its kill. No matter, Brug was as good a hunter as any man in the camp now, and the leopard was no match for a man with his abilities.

The bow and arrow was a good weapon, and Brug worked on perfecting his skills with it almost daily. Several other men were working with it as well, and Brug taught them what all he had learned on his own often. No one was nearly as good with it as he was, but Brug knew that in time that some of them would be.

Only Talut was having a really hard time, so far they had not been able to fashion a bow that didn't break when he pulled it all the way back to shoot. The large man's arms were just too long, but Brug knew that it was only a matter of time before it was all figured out.

Just when he heard the first sounds of moving water through the short brush and trees out ahead, the dark skinned boy stepped out of the shadows in front of him and slightly to his left. A mouthful of gleaming white teeth contrasted sharply from his dark face, streaked with light green paint.

Brug stopped dead in his tracks, then held out his left hand, palm up and bared his own teeth in greeting. The two boys walked toward each other, stopping two paces apart.

**********

"Wow, look at this." Brenan said as he chipped away on the shiny black stone situated in his lap. The hammer stone in his hand was small, and he held a shaped piece of deep grey flint in hid other hand. The stone tool looked even darker in the shade of the four post structure out near the southern guard position. It was a good place for the tool makers to gather and work. The paving stones under the shelter were all large, and chips of stone were easier to gather up when they were done.

The other flint workers all stopped what they were doing to watch.

Brenan used the hammer stone to tap lightly on the sharpened piece of flint, using it as a punch of sorts. The small taps took thin wafers of almost iridescent pieces of the black obsidian off with a good amount of control. Brenan worked his way down the long edge of the very large spear point, one tap at a time. When he got to the end of the point, he stopped and looked up at the others, grinning broadly.

"Let me see how you shaped that punch." Wymez said, holding out his hand. Brenan gave it to him, and Branag and Druwez both leaned in to study the tool. Wymez held it out so that he could see it better, as of late, he was having a harder and harder time seeing things clearly up close.

The tool was about as big around as Wymez' thumb at the blunt end, tapering gradually at the other end to a broad chisel shaped point. The entire tool was about as long as his forefinger. The sharp edge was as broad as the shaft, and not really very sharp at all, though it was well shaped.

"Interesting, may I try it?" Wymez asked, still scrutinizing the tool.

"Sure." Brenan answered. "Use small, controlled taps, with very little impact."

Wymez set his heavy hammer stone aside, and picked up the smaller stone he normally used on bone punches. He turned the flint chisel and tried lining it up on the spear point he had basically shaped, and gently tapped it. A thin wafer popped off, and Wymez stopped to look at the results, then nodded his head and replaced the chisel point. He began working his way down the edge of the long point, and it began taking shape slowly. When he got to the end, he examined the point, then the chisel again.

"This is good, a little hard to control at first, but it gets easier as you get used to it." Wymez said, handing the chisel over to Branag. "Lets make some tools."

Branag studied the thin tool, turning it over in his hand several times to examine how it was made from all angles. Mortan studied the tool from Branag's left side, while Druwez crowded in closer from his right. Rymar sat back watching, waiting patiently for his turn to examine the new tool. When Branag finished studying it, he handed it over to Rymar and started fishing through the heavy skin full of flint.

Rymar fingered the chisel, then surprisingly pulled one very similar to it from his own tools on the ground at his side. He compared the two tools, they were much alike, though his chisel was a bit shorter and much sharper at the end.

"What do you use that for?" Brenan asked as he saw the similar tool in Rymar's hand.

"This is what I used to make my bone punches with, it removes more material than a knife can." The older man said with a grin. "I never thought of trying it out as a punch though. This one is a little too sharp, but I'll make another one with a broader, duller edge. I don't think I want to mess with this one, it works too good."

"Brug wants to try using long bone points for the arrows." Mortan said, looking at Rymar. "How does that tool work on bone?"

Rymar grinned at the inquisitive young hunter. In all the lessons he and Wymez had given, Mortan and Druwez were really only interested in making spear points. Normal tools like wedges and axe heads didn't interest these two much. They did pay rapt attention when taught about knife making, though, and between the three of them, including Brug, had turned out a few really well made blades.

"You use it much like you would a regular knife or scraping tool, but because of its size and girth, you can exert more pressure on it and it removes more material faster." Rymar said holding the chisel up and demonstrating it against his finger without really touching it. "To remove even larger strips, you can tap the back of it with a hammer stone like Brenan was just doing, but you must be very careful. It is very easy for the edge to bite too deep and splinter the bone that way."

The two young men hung on his every word, committing everything he said to memory. This was a tool both of them needed, and now it was time to get busy and make their own. Both boys started going through the flint supplies, searching for just the right stone to begin with.

Across from them, Branag and Wymez were both already chipping away, rough shaping small nodules of flint. Rymar soon joined them, and Brenan was already back to working on his spear point. It was long, almost as long as his hand. Thicker than usual in the center, and tapering hard to each side rapidly. He tapped away, sending small chips and wafers flying.

Ludeg and Thorec walked up to them with an armload each of freshly made spear shafts. They dropped them into an already large pile of shafts, all ready for tips and feathers.

There must have been thirty or more, scraped smooth and straight. These shafts were all a little thicker than normal, but they were slightly shorter than the old mammoth and rhinoceros spears that they used to make. It was an experimental process, trying to achieve a new balance between gaining a more forceful impact and the ability to better control a heavier spear than they were used to. It was all an educated guess at this point, the end results of long discussions around the fire to strike a reasonable compromise between the two existing weapons.

Undoubtably, there would be necessary adjustments to fully develop this new hybrid spear. A process that the hunters actually looked forward to.

The new, longer version of the spear thrower along with the heavier spears was a long way from being perfected. Awkward and clumsy, the hunters who excelled with the old version of the spear thrower were struggling to learn the new variation of the tried and true weapon. Thus far, no one had met with any more than very limited success. This would definitely turn into a longer period of development than anticipated, but the efforts were ongoing.

The two men sat down and picked up a shaft each. They began the tedious process of notching the ends, one end for the stone points, the other end for the narrow slits for flight feathers.

**********

"Talut! Get up right now!" Nezzie said with authority. "You stink, I'll not have you getting the sleeping furs all stinky and sweaty. You go bathe before you try out the new bed."

Talut made a scrunched up face at his mate, and slowly pulled his tired legs off the bed and turned to drop his feet back onto the stone floor. She was right, as usual. I do stink, he thought as a slight gust of breeze blew through the stuffy hut. I can smell myself even though I bathed day before yesterday. It is always so hot here, we all stink.

Tessie was busy putting the finishing touches on one of the two bed platforms on the other side of the hut, and she laughed aloud at Nezzie scolding Talut. Her mate, Tathan sniffed at his own sweaty body as he sat on the floor and pulled folded clothes from an open skin and setting them into several semi-neat piles. He could relate to Talut, he stunk too.

While it was true that the daily temperatures were almost always hotter here, most of the camp took full advantage of the pond. With a couple of lookouts posted to keep an eye out for crocodiles, daily baths were now part of the normal routine. At least for the women and children, the adult males were a little slower to grasp the new concept, at least most of them were.

Talut stood up wearily, he had been hauling and moving stuff all day and though never really taxing himself with his efforts, he was definitely tired of this kind of work. Bring this in, go get that, take this to Tulie...it was exhausting. He looked around, seeing that everything Nezzie had asked him to fetch was here—somewhere, and thought he might be able to get away for a while. Maybe.

"I'm going to go and talk to Frebec about adding some more windows to the hut." He announced. "Do you need anything else before I go?"

Talut cringed while Nezzie pondered her answer, gazing over the messy hut. There were piles of stuff everywhere. He was relieved when she finally nodded her head 'no' and beat it out the open door trying to not look like he was in a hurry before she changed her mind. He heard Nezzie and Tessie both laughing softly through the open windows behind him.

The air was only slightly cooler now that the heat of the day finally began to wane. The sun approached the western horizon and was just starting to cast the magnificent panorama of soft colors that Talut so loved to watch. The soft winds gusted erratically.

Frebec was busy with Crisavec and Martag putting the final touches on a new window frame in the shade of one of the shade structures when Talut found them. The breeze outside was much cooler and stronger than inside the stifling hut. Talut felt the coolness of the air blowing over his sweat streaked chest, it felt good, maybe a bath wasn't such a bad idea after all.

"Let me guess, your hut is too hot and you want more windows." Frebec said as Talut approached. Crisavec laughed aloud at Frebec's slightly sarcastic tone of voice as he held short pieces of pre-cut twine ready for the men.

Talut laughed too, and sat down on the log and watched as Frebec and Martag tied the woven matting to the rectangle frame of cane. He watched the efficiency of the three working together for a moment.

"So I gather I'm not the first to ask for more windows." Talut said as Martag reached for another piece of twine.

Frebec grinned at Talut. "No, you're not the first. But I will see to it that your hut gets more windows soon. These are for the lodge, but I'll do yours next."

Talut nodded, glad to know it wouldn't be too long before the hut got the extra ventilation. He watched them work, thinking how clever Frebec's window system really was.

Frebec had come a long way from the sullen, sarcastic, often argumentative man he once was. He had actually become one of Talut's favorite camp members. Always willing to help, always cheerful, and since they had begun building their new homes, Frebec worked tirelessly. He often accompanied the gatherers, acting as a guard, and a very effective one at that. Frebec had killed several dholes, a couple of overly aggressive hyenas, and a rather protective suidae sow and four of her fat, tasty piglets. He was one of the busiest and happiest men of the entire camp. Crisavec adored him, emulating the man of his hearth in every way. The two of them usually worked together, and the affection between them was a joy to behold.

"Thanks, Frebec." Talut said with a tired voice. "I appreciate you helping me."

"Talut, with all the help you have given me and my family over the years, it's the least I can do." Frebec grinned as he went on. "Hey, look at that." He pointed over to the west.

Talut looked up, seeing the jagged, long ago healed scar tissue in the center of Frebec's forearm. The scar was a reminder of a dangerous encounter with a snow leopard from long ago. Looking past his arm, Talut grinned from ear to ear when he saw what Frebec pointed at.

Brug walked into the camp clearing, he carried a small crocodile over his wide shoulders, the tail hanging down well past his waist. Though small, the crocodile obviously weighed a lot judging from the way the hunter walked, his steps heavy and ponderous.

Talut licked his lips, croc meat had become one of his favorite meals, especially when it was cooked in one of the ground ovens. He could already smell it, and his sizable stomach growled at the thought.

**********

Latie pulled the finely made carved wooden bowls from the top of the shelf, setting them between her legs as she sat on a folded skin on the floor. There were three of them, graduating slightly in size so that they stacked easily one inside the next. Devoid of carving, they were finely made from single pieces of driftwood.

Across from her, Vincavec and Matera sat side by side with a bulging skin of supplies between them. Marsie sat next to Latie with her own bag of stuff.

It was a little warm in the lodge, but all the windows were propped open as high as they would go. The occasional breezes that came through were refreshing, but the air inside the hut stayed rather warm.

Marsie pulled a wide, shallow bowl from her stash. It was well made and the outside lip had a series of small, intricately carved horses running around the top lip. The wood grain was sparse, as birch usually was, but had small dots with semi-circles running all through it. It was a beautiful piece of work.

Matera examined a set of two matched bowls of her own, neither very large, but carved from ivory. The bowls had been rubbed and polished to a remarkably smooth surface, and the depth of the soft, light color showed of heavy use. There were small, dark brown stained hairline cracks in the surface, and these barely noticeable imperfections gave the two bowls an increased amount of character. These bowls had been passed down to her from the Mamut of the Sturgeon Camp when Matera had been named Mamut a long time ago. She cherished them more than any other possession.

Vincavec checked out several of his grinding tools of graduated sizes, most were very well worn, but still perfect. His thoughts were not on what he was doing, though he hid it reasonably well. Mog-ur's request still played heavily on his mind, the old holy man wanted to use the sacred root of the Clan at the conclusion of the ceremonies. Vincavec was slightly torn at the prospect, he had used it once before, and though all had gone reasonably well, he had to admit he was afraid of this powerful root.

The incredible effects of the trip into the metaphysical world were a wonder to behold, but he had almost gotten trapped there by staying too long. He remembered Old Mamut's warning to Latie as she had told it to him, 'Never use this lightly, and never, ever use it alone or without good reason'. These words still haunted him and clouded his judgement, Old Mamut never gave a warning like that without good reason.

Vincavec understood the Mog-ur's burning curiosity, he had experienced it himself when first told about this magical root and its inherent powers. The truth was, Vincavec admitted to himself with brutal honesty, he was simply afraid. Afraid of the strange, magical place the root took him to, afraid of odd things that he was capable of there, mostly though, he was afraid the very real consequences of being unable to return. As strong and potent as the root was, the period of time that its effects were predictable and somewhat controllable was actually relatively short. Judging the narrow window of potency was overtly difficult while under the influence of the mind altering state.

The possibility of being able to converse with Old Mamut again was by far the prevailing appeal for him to go back there again. Vincavec was willing to chance the dangers for this aspect alone, well almost. He so wanted to thank Mamut for all he had done to save him and the other camps of the Mamutoi, it was a deep need. Why am I so afraid, he asked himself again. It took a lot of brutally honest soul searching before the answer to this question finally came to him. It was because of Matera and Lumie, the family he had never had before and this intently satisfying life they gave him. A life Vincavec had only dreamed of, only longed for. To go back there, to that dangerous place, was to risk all the happiness he now had, and the future he so desired.

Vincavec had lost a lot over the course of his life. He had lost his teacher and mentor when Lomie was killed in the meaningless raid on the Wolf Camp. He had lost his oldest and dearest friend when Old Mamut had finally succumbed to the ravages of his incredible age and finally crossed on over into the everlasting land of the spirits. He had lost his pride and joy, his beautiful Mammoth Camp, so incredibly defiled by the raiders and the aftermath of the defensive slaughter. Vincavec had lost the magnificent new camp that he and the volunteers had banded together to build which had been such a labor of love in the incredibly serene, ultimately bountiful valley.

The Cave Bear Camp was the proudest achievement of Vincavec's entire life, and now it was probably gone. Probably destroyed along with all his people, his own sibling as well. Not knowing their fate always played heavily on his mind, it was hard not knowing for sure. Hard to know if he had done the right thing by going on to warn the Aurochs Camp and the Lion Camp instead of trying to beat the raiders back to his own camp. Did I make the right decision, he questioned himself over and over, again and again. Had it really been too late to get back and protect my new camp, and should I have tried? Did I do the right thing to bypass the Cave Bear Camp to go on and warn the very people that had come to our defense. The magnificent friends, without whose unselfish efforts we would never had survived the raider's initial assault?

Questions and more questions, they never ended, ever. Tons of self doubt conflicting dramatically with the utter assurance of making all the correct, necessary decisions. It was all a jumbled up mess in his head, and it might possibly always be that way. Vincavec knew that the only possible way to know if what he had done was the right thing was to go back there. To actually speak to Old Mamut—if he was still there and if this was a real and viable possibility. For this reason, he had to consider it. If he could ever know the outcome in the lands of the Mamutoi, it was the only way...

"Vincavec!" Matera's voice carried the edge of annoyance on it.

Vincavec slowly realized he was being addressed, and he dragged himself out from that overly familiar argument he had with himself in his mind. With great effort, he pasted a smile on his face and looked into Matera's eyes.

"I'm sorry, my mind was wandering. What did you say?" His voice was slightly penitent.

"Latie asked you if we should give the smaller children a mild datura mix to keep them sedate and get them to sleep early." Matera replied sternly. "She asked you three times."

Vincavec grinned, he usually didn't allow his mind to wander into that familiar place unless he was alone. "Whatever you think, Latie. I do like not having to worry with them while I climb hip deep into a wine skin, myself."

They all laughed at his admission, knowing that there was a lot of truth to what he said. Each of them felt a lot the same, in their own way. It was rare that they got to let themselves go, and this would be the first real festival of any kind since they had settled here. They all looked forward to having a little fun, or maybe a lot of fun, who knows?

The discussion of what all needed to be done in preparation for the various aspects of the ceremonies involved went on.

Vincavec paid attention and contributed, deciding to worry about the root later, if he could somehow push it all to the back of his mind. It proved to be impossible, and his mind kicked into overdrive. I needed to talk to Brenan, he figured, I already knew what Latie's stance on the root was, but if Brenan agreed... Well, surely she wouldn't let him take the root if she didn't, Latie would never risk allowing Brenan to go back into that dangerous place without her, of this Vincavec was absolutely sure. I need to figure out how to help the Mog-ur, he decided, and his face paled slightly at the prospect. That means I have to oppose Matera, he thought, now that will be fun.

**********

Etra and Ova cleaned the crocodile out on the wide flat rock table near the pit ovens. Brug hung around and helped whenever pure muscle was needed, but mostly stayed out of the way while the women worked. Once they freed the basic carcass from the hard, shell-like back, Brug used his hand axe to cut the head off the rest of the body. Ova snipped the tongue free and let Brug have the rest of the head.

Brug lugged the heavy skull over to an out of the way part of the shaded enclosure and sat down to go to work. With his knife, hand axe, and his axe with a short bone handle, he proceeded to remove the skin and meat from the bone.

Etra brought him a plate just after dusk and he stopped long enough to eat before continuing on. Mortan and Branag joined him and the three of them ate together then they helped him work on the heavy skull. It was hard work, and it was well after dark before they had the skull adequately stripped.

Branag used a wet piece of sandstone to get the last bits of clinging flesh off the top of the bone, and the abrasive rock slicked out the white bone as he did. Once cleaned, the three of them played around with the shape of the usable skull, designing an arrow point within the boundaries of the thickest parts of the bone.

Brug kept drawing out a really long point, with a gentle taper. It was hard to get three of them out of the skull, but they finally figured out the layout to manage it. Once decided, Brug started cutting a shallow groove in the hard bone with a short, heavy edged knife-like tool he pulled from a pouch from his belt.

When he had the outline finished for the first point, Branag took over for him and traced out the second point. Mortan carved the third outlined point.

They were able to work two at a time from each side of the length of the elongated skull, but had to be rather careful about it. One slip could mean somebody could get cut, or worse. This was a long, slow moving task. To keep from breaking the knife tips, they could only use light to moderate pressure with each stroke.

Branag bid them a pleasant evening and went back to his hut, telling Brug not to carve on the skull all night. Brug nodded, and signed that he would be along in a while. Branag, Deegie, Brydag, and Brug all shared the hut along with Ludeg. It was a nice arrangement that allowed everyone plenty of room.

'Where did you kill the croc?' Mortan signed as he paused to brush the bone dust away from the gradually deepening groove.

Brug looked up at him, thought for a moment, then signed in return. 'In creek, back from pond near three trees at the point.'

Mortan knew this place well, it was where the creek got real deep for a short span as the waterway narrowed and turned sharply around a short rock outcrop. He nodded and signed again before going back to work. 'Was he on land, or did you have to pull him from water by self?'

Brug's face reddened slightly as he thought about his answer before signing in return. 'I managed, have to be smarter than croc.'

Mortan thought it a bit of an evasive answer, but didn't press it as he carefully pulled the pointed tip down the groove again. Sometimes Brug was just like that, he thought, having known and hunted with him for so long now. Not often, but sometimes he almost acts like he would rather be left alone than to talk about a hunt, Mortan thought, then dismissed the oddity of Brug's reaction. There was still a lot of work to do.

**********

'How much of the sacred root do you have?' Mog-ur asked as Etra's eyes dropped to the ground at the unexpected question. The color drained slowly from her face as she considered her answer. It had been a long, long time since she had even thought about this powerful, mystical substance.

'I have eight cured fingers of the root, but I do not know how much potion it will make.' Etra signed as she looked down at the ground at her feet again. When Mog-ur had asked to speak with her privately, she had assumed that he was going to ask her if she were pregnant. Etra had been enduring sporadic bouts of the morning sickness for the last several days, but at her age she wasn't completely sure that a baby was the cause. Living in such close proximity to the Mog-ur in the main lodge, she was certain he would have noticed something. His question couldn't have caught her more by surprise. Etra was having a hard time regaining her composure, her hands trembled.

'Do you know enough to prepare the sacred potion of the root correctly?'

Etra had to think about this, she had never done it before, nor seen it done. This was the stuff of pure legend, the only knowledge she had on the subject was from hearing Latie's detailed explanations. Well, that and the briefest of glimpses into the Mog-ur's mind.

This was something that Etra had not admitted to anyone—ever. Mog-ur had once joined with her mind in an attempt to seek out the deepest of her memories with the aid of a consciousness altering potion. They were attempting to open her mind to allow her access to some of her deepest held memories of very distant ancestors that had been medicine women of the Clan. Somehow during this process, Mog-ur had actually entered her mind and joined with her in her subconscious thoughts. Though she had never mentioned it, she had seen into his mind as well, for a time.

Mog-ur had access to memories of his own concerning the root, though none were from first hand experiences. Everything he knew came from second hand knowledge, and though usually dependable, this kind of information was highly questionable, possibly even dangerous. Etra had seen into some of this, and it terrified her to the bone.

'I don't know.' Her hand still trembled as she signed.

Mog-ur stared deeply into her dark brown eyes and held her in his power for a long, uncomfortable moment before he released her and nodded and walked away. He left Etra standing alone under the four post structure near the ground ovens. His eyes roamed as he looked out over the sprawling camp searching for Brenan. Mog-ur finally spotted him carving a notch in the butt of a spear shaft in the midst of a large gathering of men working on weapons. He saw several spears were now topped off with shiny black points of the new stone, the one they called obsidian. It would probably cause lot of curiosity if Mog-ur called Brenan out of this group, so he veered back toward the main lodge.

He needed to think. He needed time alone. Even though Mog-ur had spent most of the day meditating on his secluded bench, he had resolved nothing. This was an opportunity that he didn't want to miss out on because opportunities of this sort were exceptionally rare. The celebrations and ceremonies that were coming were the perfect time to use the root in its proper setting, and who knew when his next chance would be—if ever.

Though hungry, the succulent scent of suidae roasting on the spit didn't touch him as he walked slowly past the fire.

**********

Talut handled the spear, testing its balance and weight. This weapon had one huge spear point, he observed as he pulled the spear up into throwing position. The spear was still slightly front heavy, and he shifted his grip just a little further back on the wrapped hand grip of criss-crossed, thin leather strapping. Even the shaft of this spear was a little thicker and definitely heavier than usual, though it was slightly shorter than the old mammoth spears he used to make. Some of the wood here was extraordinarily dense and heavy, and this spear was made of a wood so dark that it almost matched Ranec's skin color.

The overall balance evened out and Talut grinned as he thought of how hard he would be able to throw this new, deadly weapon. The shiny black point was amazing. It was almost as long as his hand, and so much wider than he was used to seeing that he wondered just how effective it would be penetrating the large animals of the flats. He reached up to touch the edges of the tapered point as he lowered the spear back down in front of him. The angled, shiny facets of the carefully crafted tip glistened in the shimmering light of the fire. Fairly thick in the center, it fell away in distinct, sharp angles into opposite side edges that would be sharp enough to shave with. It was a beautiful piece of work, he observed as he studied it extensively, and oh so deadly.

Wymez and the tool makers had definitely figured out how to work the new stone to perfection. Whatever it was they had learned about the difficult stone, they had obviously mastered. The series of new points that were complete, and those still in progress were each a work of art. Flawless perfection. Talut watched as Branag and Wymez chipped away, shaping the shiny stone, trying to figure out what was different about the way they worked. Not being much of a stone worker himself, the subtleties were totally lost on him.

Druwez was carefully chipping away on the butt end of a new point, the shaped piece cradled into a slight depression on the anvil stone resting between his legs. He positioned the odd looking punch-like tool precisely and tapped it with a pair of quick raps with his small hammer stone. Small chips flew, and he studied what he had accomplished before re-positioning the punch for another go.

Talut grinned at the expertise he showed, Wymez was as good a teacher as there was, and this young man had learned his lessons well. The pride he felt as he watched the stone workers churning out point after point gave him a warm feeling inside.

Troog and Draag wrapped thin leather strips for handgrips on otherwise completed spears, and Rymar and Brenan fit feathers into notches carved into the butts. They worked side by side with good natured ribbing worked into the conversations. Brenan teased Druwez about a slight mis-hit, but complimented him when he repaired the imperfection with a few deftly placed taps with the chisel.

Mortan was busy working on the smaller projectiles now called arrows. He had a several finished points of the obsidian, and two long bone points as well. These arrow shafts were a little longer than the last ones he had made. Mortan had a sample arrow that he was copying for length, but the feathers on the one he was working on were substantially longer and wider, too.

For a fleeting moment, Talut thought how easy it would be for this camp to be first at the annual Mamutoi summer meeting. Then as he realized what an absurd thought it was he scowled. Talut loved this new land, possibly more now than he did his old home in the lands of the Mamutoi. The Land of the Sun was everything he could possibly have hoped it would be, and more. Still, leaving like they did, like they had to still bothered the big headman more than he would have liked to admit. What ever came of the raiding parties of the north, he wondered, who, if anyone of the south survived? These thoughts and questions would haunt him forevermore.

**********

Brenan watched Brug use a small piece of sandstone to polish the flat ends of his bow with long, delicate strokes in the light of the southern most perimeter fire. The bow was already smooth to the touch, but the more attention Brug gave it, the slicker it got. Owls hooted from the trees around them, and their sweet songs played an irregular melody that was oddly soothing. The two of them had the second watch, and daylight was on the way soon.

Standing up on slightly stiff legs, Brenan signed for Brug to stay put and went out to walk the perimeter for probably the last time tonight. He carried his new favorite spear, one he had yet to even try out. It was of the heavier, dark colored wood that felt so solid in his hands. Brenan had three of these new spears, and four new spears for the new spear thrower, too.

Brenan followed the well worn foot path. He walked slowly, his ears peeled for any sound that varied from the norm. The path wound around the last tree of the wide arc, and then cut back to the northeast along the edge of the line of trees. The grass rustled to his right as a rabbit or hare moved quickly away from him. With his eyes now adjusted to the darkness, Brenan could see pretty well out over the field of grass. Some type of deer or antelope grazed near the line of low brush off to the east, the vague shape of the upper portion of his body barely discernable in the shadowy darkness.

He followed the path as it veered more northerly. The night sounds were all around him, the owls hooting continuing from the trees, the grass rustling softly in the breeze, leaves rubbing together softly. A single songbird began his pre-dawn song, softly at first, then growing louder and more bold as he continued. A soft crunch of leaves startled Brenan, and he looked quickly to the north.

"Brenan." The soft whisper carried easily in the early morning air.

Brenan took a deep breath, letting it back out slowly. "Danug, over here."

Danug's large body appeared in the darkness following the same path coming towards him.

"All quiet?" Brenan whispered.

"Yes, nothing going on tonight." Danug answered softly, then yawned. He set the butt of his spear on the ground, it was one of the new ones with an extra large obsidian point and dark shaft.

"You going to take a few practice throws with the new spears later?" Brenan asked, setting his own spear butt on the ground at his feet.

"Yeah, I think I'd better. These are so much heavier and shorter than I'm used to."

"I know what you mean, I feel like Talut with a spear this thick." Brenan chuckled.

"All right, I'll see you after the first meal and we'll go out to the range." Danug said, then yawned again as he turned to go back to the northern guard station.

Brenan yawned too from the power of suggestion as Danug walked away. He picked up his spear, moving his hand up the shaft until he felt the balance point, then turned to go back. The light breeze blew directly into his face as he walked, carrying with it the smells of the flats down below in the distance. It made his heartbeat increase slightly as he thought of the hunt planned for the next day.

Brug sat with the Mog-ur at the small fire when Brenan returned. It startled Brenan that the Mog-ur would be there, especially since he had not heard his approach. A tea basket sat on the ground between them, and Mog-ur had Brug's bow and was looking it over while Brug explained some of the finer points of the weapon.

Brenan nodded at them both as he sat down, laying his spear down on the ground, the shiny point toward the fire catching a few sparkles from the light of the low flames. Brug finished his recitation about the bow, and Mog-ur nodded as he handed it back, telling Brug what a fine, well made weapon it was. The satisfied look on Brug's face was obvious, and he abruptly stood up and walked back toward the camp.

Brenan was surprised at this, for Brug rarely left guard duty early unless he had a hunt planned, and Brenan knew that this was not the case today. Mog-ur dipped a cup of tea and handed it to Brenan, then dipped another for himself.

The soft wings of an owl were barely discernable in the darkness above them, but his hooting cry verified what they had heard as he flew into the tree nearest them to the east. He hooted again, and both men looked up as they sipped their tea to his haunting song.

'You have fear in your heart of the sacred root of the Clan.' Mog-ur signed using simple, slightly exaggerated signs.

Brenan blanched visibly, cocking his head as Mog-ur went on. He couldn't have possibly been taken off guard more by the simple statement.

'You have used this potion of the sacred root two times, but still you are afraid. Why?'

Brenan thought about this for a moment, the very subject of the root was still a surprise that the Mog-ur had even brought it up. He had never been comfortable speaking of either experience–to anyone. Brenan had discussed the basics of it all briefly with Old Mamut after the first time, and then again with Latie a little later, neither discussion was of any real depth at all. It had been more like comparing notes on the particulars of the journey. Vincavec had tried to draw him into a conversation after the second metaphysical trip, but it hadn't really amounted to much either. Brenan just wasn't very eager to talk about it, Mog-ur was right, it all scared him. Bad.

'Is hard to tell.' Brenan finally signed, searching for the words he really wanted to use but having to be satisfied with the limited words he knew. 'Is scary place, is scary in head, scared get lost there.'

Mog-ur took in his words, understanding Brenan's crude signs easily. He thought for a moment before asking his next question.

'Is fear of getting lost the greatest?'

Brenan nodded his head quickly without bothering to properly consider the question.

'If fear is real, then it should be faced and conquered.' Mog-ur paused to watch Brenan's reaction. These Others are so transparent, he thought to himself as he watched Brenan's face redden and his eyes grow wide.

'Fear festers if left to its own devise. It can grow and spread.'

Brenan felt a chill wash over him, wrinkling his skin and causing him to shiver.

'I can help you face fear.' Mog-ur went on. 'I can help you be at peace with the root.'

Brenan dropped his eyes to the paving stones he sat on. Hot tears ran down his cheeks as another wave of chill bumps enveloped him. He took a deep, quivering breath, then wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and looked up at the old man of the Clan.

'How you make fear go? How make nightmares end?'

Mog-ur let the questions hang, he considered his next words carefully.

'Need to go back there, one more time.'

Brenan felt the world crushing down on him as Mog-ur continued.

'Must see for yourself that you have the power to go there and then return, must make friends with spirit world.'

Brenan exhaled loudly and cupped his hands over his face. This was all too real, all too unexpected. Then he had another thought that chilled him all over again. He looked up into the deep brown eyes of the Mog-ur and signed and spoke.

'What about "Latie"?

Mog-ur expected this, and answered immediately.

'Only you can convince her to go back there with you. If you go, she must go also.'

Brenan hung his head again. This was more than he bargained for, but if it could rid him of the nightmares and the ever lingering fear... Old Mamut must have known somehow, he knew I would need to go there again, Brenan thought. Somehow this did not give him the comfort he hoped it would.

Mog-ur watched Brenan's facial expressions. He saw the subtle changes and knew that Brenan would convince Lat-ee as easy as if he could read his mind. Mog-ur took a deep breath, the greatest wish of his lifetime could be realized. Could, he thought to himself, might, maybe. His heart beat powerfully in his chest, but he managed to keep his outward expression serene and calm. Barely.

**********

The practice area was full of hunters trying out the new weapons. The heavy, new spears were mastered rather quickly, but the new, longer spear throwers and their larger spears were not. It appeared after a time that the spear thrower relied on a rather precarious balancing act between the length of the thrower and the spear itself. The balance between the two had somehow been lost.

Frebec and Thorec both spent a lot of time trying to work out the difficulties. They even went as far as to try the longer, heavier spears with their old spear throwers. The success they had was limited, severely limited. This was not a weapon they could rely on to hunt with.

Brenan gave up after experiencing the same kind of erratic results, but his head wasn't really into it. He even had a hard time with the new spears, but eventually got the hang of them and managed to keep them all in one piece.

Thorec and Salen were probably the best marksmen of all the hunters with the old style spear throwers, but neither of them were able to get any real measure of accuracy either. Frustration grew as spear tips shattered against small stones on the ground all around the soft targets. They were diligent, though, and kept trying, passing back and forth what they learned. Both men got the distinct feelings that they were starting over from scratch with the modified weapons.

Talut smashed three tips in a row and gave up, the new sized spear throwers did not agree with him at all. Everything about them felt foreign and strange. He threw his new spears with authority though, and had no trouble gaining a rate of accuracy that he was well known for. The speed and penetration rate of the new spears was incredible, and Talut quit before he damaged a single one of his new spears.

Everyone else was a little slower in mastering the heavier spears, but with time and practice they all felt comfortable with them in the end. A few weapons were damaged, but not many. The obsidian seemed to be a little tougher than the flint, and the larger points held up well even when the targets were missed.

Brug was the hit of the day. When he demonstrated his bow and arrow, everyone knew that this would eventually be the primary weapon for hunting, some day. The speed and penetration Brug achieved with every shot was as impressive as anything any of them had ever seen. Brug was getting really good with the bow, and Mortan and Druwez weren't too far behind him.

The biggest difference between the two hunters of the Others and Brug was in the power of the bow. Neither Mortan nor Druwez were able to pull back an arrow with as much force and control as the stronger Brug was, and their bows didn't have the tension that Brug's did. This cut the power of their arrows considerably, though they were still fast and hit hard enough to do serious damage. Both hunters were probably already able to drop almost any good sized animal with an accurate hit. With Brug though, there was no doubt. He had already proved his own acumen and skill with the bow.

Talut resolved himself to find a way to make a bow that would stand up to his arm length and power. He was possibly the most impressed hunter of them all with Brug's show of accuracy and power. If Brug can do that, he thought smugly to himself, what could I do with it? He had an odd thought, and stared at Brug giving a demonstration of how to use and aim the bow to a large group of interested hunters. Mortan and Druwez helped out with the show and tell, but it was the relationship between Brug and the size of his bow that interested Talut.

Proportions, he thought as he saw that the bow was just a slight bit shorter when strung than Brug was tall. The last couple of bows Talut had made for himself were all considerably shorter in relation to his own height. Maybe that is the part I'm missing, his thoughts continued, and Brug's bow is so much thicker than the other two boys. I need to compare the thicknesses too, he realized. Wow, there is a lot more to this than I thought.

Talut gained a new measure of respect for Brug, he saw now that there was a lot of hard work to develop this new weapon. Trial and error, learning the hard way about every single aspect and tendency of the bow and arrow. Learning to hit what you aim at, figuring out every little problem that came up along the way. This is one dedicated young man, he thought, grinning broadly at the young hunt leader. Talut's pride swelled, he was already getting giddy about the hunt tomorrow.

**********

"...I think we should go all out with our old Mamutoi style clothes for the ceremonies, at least for the matrimonial parts." Tulie was saying. "I still have a few nice tunics and leggings, Latie you do too."

Latie grinned. "I have my matrimonial outfit still, but a few of the dark colored beads are missing and there are a few added designs on the sleeves and shoulders."

Nezzie laughed aloud, party to the peculiar history of the unusual added design features of the beautiful tunic. The marks were thin rips made by the claws of a huge rogue cave lion that had attacked Latie during her matrimonial seclusion with Brenan. Latie's blood left the tears slightly darkened at the edges and were accented nicely by the small, intricate stitching she used to repair the garment. Overall, it made for an extremely interesting looking tunic. Bright orange with a setting sun design across the front accented with dark beads, and those sleeves and shoulders. Remarkable.

"I have my favorite tunic and legging combo too, and I'm probably small enough to even fit in it again." Nezzie said laughing. She had lost a lot of her former, very matronly build during the long distance they traveled. As busy as Nezzie had been since finally getting here, she had lost even more weight following the birth of Manut. In fact, she was probably smaller in stature now than she had been since Danug was born. She had a hard time keeping Talut off her, as if she minded.

Tulie laughed, she was well aware how much weight Nezzie had lost over the past year. I'm smaller too, she thought with a small measure of satisfaction. Though Tulie had never been overweight, per say, she had always been exceptionally large and had carried more weight than she really needed to support her strong frame. She actually had a few tunic combos to choose from, all were nice and well preserved, most of them boldly indicating her high station and stature within the hierarchy of the leadership.

"I'm afraid I don't have anything worthy of wearing at a ceremony." Matera said, looking up from her scattered small pouches of medicines and herbs. Her medicine pouch was open and the contents lay all around her in neat piles and rows on a soft leopard skin as she went through them testing quantities and potencies by smell.

"The only nice tunic set I had with me was lost on our journey back to the Sturgeon Camp during a rather difficult river crossing." Matera went on, her eyes misting with sadness from the memory of the sight of her home camp destroyed and smoking. "I had planned to gather the rest of my things when Vincavec and I were to be joined, I was going to go back and live with him at the new Cave Bear Camp lodge."

It got quiet for a while in the main lodge, each woman lost in her own thoughts. Everyone of them had their own horrific memories from the past two years, and for just a little while they all had to deal with some of the most unpleasant times of their lives.

"I'll wager I have something nice that would fit you, Matera." Latie said softly, mentally going through her clothing in her mind. "We're close to the same size."

Matera smiled gratefully at Latie, knowing anything the young Mamut had would be of top quality due to her station and rank within the former Lion Camp.

"Thank you, Latie." She answered. "I would be most grateful."

"We'll go through my things later, I have a really nice, tan colored dress with amber accents on it that you might like..."

**********

The sun was well past its prime, and though not nearly as hot as it had been, it was still pretty warm when out of the protective canopy of shade. The breeze coming over the cliff was a little cooler than usual, but not much. It was still a good little while before sunset promised a break from the heat of the day.

The circle of hunters was huge at the main fire. So large that they were in the way of the women who were diligently having to work around them to get the vast evening meal prepared.

There would be only men in their prime on this hunt, though several of the women and slightly older male hunters were just as skilled as those chosen to go. This was Tulie's idea, and as surprising as it was, it made sense. She had proposed it because of the tenuous nature of the hunt method to be tried, as well as the arduous trip back up the steep trail, hopefully with a full load of meat. She caught a little grief from Deegie and Regan who both really wanted to go, but not too much. Future hunts wouldn't be quite as full of unknowns as this one would, if all went according to the plan, anyway.

Weapons were being examined and cleaned. Damaged points had fresh work done on them or replaced all together. Wrapped hand grips cleaned and in some cases re-wrapped. Feathers groomed or taken off in favor of fresh ones. Wymez and Rymar were kept exceptionally busy, as were Branag and Ludeg.

Anticipation ran high, and excitement was definitely in the air. Even though no one would be using the new, larger version of the spear thrower, the heavier spears with the large points were a weapon they could all feel comfortable with. In fact, as well as the practice session went this afternoon, the new weapons were a big part of the excitement of the impending hunt.

A smaller group of women sat at the edge of the gathering mending hunting clothes. Several had torn loops for the camouflage, and a few of Brug's hunters clothes were a bit on the ragged side from excessive use. On quite a few of the vest-like tunics, extra loops were being sewn on, front and back.

Brug slicked his newest arrow with a small, well used piece of sandstone. This arrow was a little larger than the rest of his older ones, and there were two more just like it on the ground beside him. Long, sharply tapered bone points adorned the tips, beautiful and deadly. Mortan had made the shafts and both young hunters had worked on the bone points along with Branag. They used tips and hints of working techniques offered by both Branag and Rymar, and the end results were incredible. They taught carving methods that had sped up the process of shaping the hard crocodile skull pieces. The younger hunters learned time saving tricks that gave better results than the boys would have thought possible in such a short period of time. Bone traditionally took much longer to work than stone, but these shaped up rather quickly with all the new techniques and tricks they were taught.

It was a short argument within his own head, but in the end Brug decided he would take the bow on the hunt. If only for a secondary weapon, he thought to himself, it would be good to have. He had learned to keep the bow strung and wrapped over his back and shoulders at an extreme diagonal just under the scabbards of spears and arrows in such a way that he could access it pretty quickly if need be. Brug still hunted primarily with his spears, but sometimes on his solo afternoon hunts he would use the bow. He was gaining confidence more and more as time went on.

**********

Latie woke up with a start, Brenan's prone body jerked again beside her, his forehead was covered with a sheen of sweat and tendrils of hair stuck to his face. He was dreaming again, another nightmare. The soft firelight shimmered behind him in the slight breeze that softly blew through the open windows of the lodge, casting shadows and small glimmering sparkles from the sweat on his face.

Brenan had had occasional nightmares ever since the first time they had gone on the spirit trip with Old Mamut with the aid of the sacred root of the Clan. They had gotten worse after the initial confrontation with the raiders, Brenan had killed more than one raider, and though justified, Latie knew it still bothered him a lot. It still bothered her as well, though she had somehow come to terms with it over time. The bad dreams had eased off for a while, but had returned with a vengeance after the close call with the lion. Over the span of many moons, the nightmares gradually lessened in frequency—until lately.

For the last three or four full moon cycles, they had begun to occur more and more often again. Latie was worried, she had even tried to discuss the matter with Brenan a few times, but he was very reluctant, almost as if he were afraid to even talk about them.

Brenan's body jerked again, and he moaned softly.

Latie reached over and stroked Brenan's wrinkled forehead, his eyes were shut tightly as if in agony, or he was afraid. Terribly afraid. Brenan reached his right arm up and covered his face with his forearm as if warding off a blow from an unseen attacker. Latie pulled her hand back and leaned back, watching him as a fat tear rolled down her cheek.

Brenan was afraid of the spirit world, that much Latie knew for sure. In his mind, somehow, the death of Old Mamut was deeply intertwined with this fear, rational or not. Latie guessed that Brenan blamed the root of the Clan for Old Mamut dying when he did. While there might be some element of truth to this line of reasoning, she didn't think it was the real cause at all. Yes, Latie thought to herself, Mamut's death could have been hastened by the spirit trip, but his health had been failing steadily for some time. Old Mamut had told her that his time with her was almost up a few times when Latie and he were in the final stages of her training. As much as it had pained her, Latie had known this to be inherently true and when he died, she was not as surprised as she was hurt and sad by the ultimate finality of it all.

With a deep moan, his arm dropped back to his side and the wrinkled skin of Brenan's forehead softened and relaxed slowly as the dream passed. Latie picked up a soft square of rabbit skin from the floor next to the bed platform and carefully wiped Brenan's face with it. When she was sure that it was over, at least for now, she lay back down beside her mate and cradled his sweaty head against her bare chest. Her tears flowed freely.

Across the lodge, from far side corner beneath a window, Mog-ur watched as Latie cuddled with Brenan. Two nights in a row, he thought to himself, the young man's sleep had been disturbed. Mog-ur took a deep breath and considered carefully his want-his need to take Brenan back to the spirit world with the root of the Clan. Is it only my desire to experience this misty, shrouded place of legend, he asked himself again, will it really help Bren-ah to be rid of these fears that plague him?

Mog-ur wanted to believe that he was doing the right thing, in trying to convince Brenan to go back there one more time, but he doubted that his motives were pure. Yes, he thought, it will help him to overcome the fear, or, he knew, it could possibly even damage him further. Mog-ur sent out a silent plea for wisdom and guidance to his totem. It bothered him immensely that thus far here in the Land of the Sun he had neither seen nor heard the cries of his totem animal, the grey wolf. Are you still with me, he asked, do you still watch over me here in this faraway, strange land of our ancestors?

Many times in his life, the grey wolf had come to him in times of his greatest need. Always close, always there for him, though never threatening. Since the smoking mountain though, Mog-ur had not even heard the soothing, wailing song of his totem. His oldest memories told him that the wolf did not live this far south. Wolves were creatures of a colder and more temperate climate, but still he yearned for the familiar and comforting sounds of his four legged brethren.

Mog-ur drifted off to sleep still pondering all this. Sometime in the depths of the night, well before dawn, he heard the howl of the great grey wolf in his dreams. The comfort he felt from the sound was unmatched with anything he had felt in a long, long time. He hoped that this was some kind of justification for his plans to go on the spirit trip. Mog-ur hoped this with all his sizable heart.


	39. Chapter 27 Part 2

**Chapter Twenty Seven**

_The Waterfall Camp_

**Part Two**

The main camp fire was stoked up to a massive height. The heat and light it produced was immense in the darkness. The camp was alive with activity, people everywhere. Hunters fussed with there weapons and camouflage clothing, and women dished out food and drink.

A huge hanging skin of stew simmered along side three large baskets of tea near the edge of the flames. A wide pelvic bone platter of bananas and grapes was set up well away from the heat of the fire at the edge of the circle of light. Talut and Danug sat side by side on a seating log, seeing who could finish their first bowl of hot stew first. Danug currently held a slight edge, but Talut was catching up.

Brug was in constant motion. He checked and helped fit grass and twigs into the hunter's clothing loops, re-arranged scabbards to maximize the effects of the camouflage, and generally watched over everything going on as they started the tedious process of getting ready. He was nervous, and it was not a feeling he was comfortable or very familiar with. This hunt was important.

He had gone over the new plan a hundred times in his mind, maybe more. Brug had watched the way the lions hunted the herd animals of the flats, and this plan was basically modeled after their best methods. But it was untested, new, and his idea.

Mortan came up to Brug and stepped around behind him. He pulled the two scabbards apart a little at the center, jamming the leafy twig between them a bit deeper into the twin loops and spreading its thin branches a little more. Mortan seated the twin scabbards back across Brug's shoulder blades and they fell at angles across his back and the spear scabbard fell down across back of his legs correctly. As he stepped back in front of Brug, Brug nodded at him and he turned around.

Brug took a hard, critical look at the way Mortan's single scabbard rested, and how the sprigs and grasses hid the long, thin scabbard. It looked good and he tapped his friend on the shoulder. As Mortan turned back to face him, Brug nodded then made a few simple signs. 'We are ready, help the others.'

Mortan grinned, then went on to check out some of the other hunters. He was nervous too. He and Brug had gone over the hunt strategy dozens of times together, it all sounded so good, but both of them were used to hunting in much smaller hunting parties. This hunt would entail the use of some twenty five odd hunters, many more than either was used to having with them on a regular basis.

It took a while for them all to get their camouflage and weapons in order. Everyone got at least one bowl of the heavy meat stock stew as well, most having two. Traveling supplies would be sparse this time, and fresh water would be the only thing taken in any real quantity.

Brug forced himself to eat a full bowl of the tasty stew, and washed it down with three cups of fragrant morning tea spiced with chamomile and a little banana for sweetness. Mortan joined him, and before they had finished, Druwez came over as well.

Brenan and Frebec had almost a dozen small torches laid out on the ground between them. A small basket of melted fat was on the ground in front of them, and they dipped the tightly wound, thick cane strip ends into the fat and then set the aside to dry. Each torch was dipped at least three times, and each time the rapidly congealing fat made the tip of the torch a little larger. Frebec had a torch in each hand and was busy dipping them, one after the other while Brenan watched and waited his turn. Brenan yawned, though he had not had watch duty, he had woken up as tired as he had been when he went to sleep. He could only vaguely remember his dreams.

Frebec set the two torches on the ground carefully, keeping the heads off the paving stones to dry. Brenan took over, working with a torch in each hand. There were two torches left to coat with the mixture of fat.

Mog-ur approached Brug and Mortan as they were putting their used bowls into the growing pile. Rug and Ludeg joined them as he arrived. The rest of the hunters were scattered out behind them putting the final touches on their equipment and waiting patiently.

'May Ursus be with you today.' Mog-ur signed fluidly, then raised his hands to the skies in a slow, powerful motion. His signing included his entire body now as he called down the spirits of their totems to assist and protect the hunters.

Brug and Mortan watched with wide eyes and awe as the old holy man went through the smooth, almost dance like motions. As he wound it down, Mog-ur stepped back and the light of the huge flames made the colored scar on his chest almost seem to glow. This did not get past Rug either, and he felt a sudden surge of spiritual power emanating from the Mog-ur.

Brug nodded his head, then lowered it for a moment as a show of respect before turning and signing to the rest of the hunters.

'We go.' Brug looked from man to man as he continued to sign in simple language. 'We will be quiet, and keep the torches next to the cliff side at all times.'

With that, he motioned for Brenan to take his position at the front of the loose line with himself and Rug. Frebec walked to the rough center of the line and joined the men there. Mortan and Ludeg dropped off to take the rear, and Druwez joined in with them.

Brug took one last look back at the camp, and for some odd reason his eyes lingered on Ooga. She had a couple of bowls in her hands and she stared at him until his eyes focused in on her, then she demurely dropped her eyes to the ground. Brug felt an odd feeling in his belly, and he wondered briefly if it was his nerves or if the stew didn't agree with him. Ooga seemed a little prettier than usual these days, it was odd, he had never really thought of her as pretty before.

Mog-ur noticed the subtle interplay, and was forced to reconsider his thoughts about mating Brug and Ooga at the upcoming ceremonies. The boy was truly a man now, even though he had shown no real signs of being interested in women yet, he was probably due.

The long line of hunters moved off into the darkness, and everyone left at the camp watched them go. In only a few moments, there was no sign or sound of them, as if the night had swallowed them whole.

**********

Brenan and Frebec lit two of the small torches at the top of the cliff where the long path down began. The smells of the flats carried up to them on the soft breeze. Danug, Brenan, and Talut followed behind Brug and Rug as they led the way down, Rug carried the torch out to his left side to help light the way. He kept his body between the torch and the flats below.

Mid way through the line, Frebec joined in and helped light the way as Rug did farther down the trail. The men stayed as quiet as possible, and as they traversed the long path down, more and more sounds from the flats became slowly audible. The bawling of calves, the low roar of a lion, the grunting 'moos' of the grazers, and the ever present cackling of hyenas.

A third of the way down, just a little before the first landing of steps that turned the path back around itself to the west, the low pitched growls of an invisible black panther stopped Talut in his tracks. The sounds reminded Talut of the deep grunts all big cats made when feeding, and he was determined to be cautious. Talut was leading the way down at this point, and Danug, who was right behind him, held his arm back to slow those behind them. Rug saw the motion and shielded the light of the small torch with his body. The darkness grew more intense instantly.

Talut watched for the source of the sound, looking more for any subtle movement than actually trying to pick out the sly predator in the darkness. He slowly scanned the area, his eye continually catching the slight movement of one of the odd weeds that sometimes grew out from thin cracks in the wall of rock. Talut gripped his spear firmly, taking two more steps forward.

The sounds stopped, and so did Talut.

A hyena cackled from somewhere down on the flats, answered by another nearby. A gust of breeze made the small weed clumps sway and rustle softly. The smell of a close, fresh kill wafted past.

Talut stepped forward three more steps and stopped, scanning the jagged rocks again. Nothing. He walked ahead a couple of steps more, and the quiet night erupted with the screech of the panther. Talut jerked his spear up as the dark blur bounded down off to his left, then he saw another fleeting glimpse of a moving shadow as the panther nimbly dropped out of sight. Talut exhaled loudly, he had been holding his breath without realizing it. The sound of a small falling rock as it bounced down the cliff with a few soft clacks was all to be heard.

"Panther?" Danug whispered from right behind him.

"I think so." Talut whispered back. "He must have been on a kill. Let's go."

Talut started on down the trail, it was very steep at this point and he took his time. At the wooden step landing, Talut slowed when he detected the smell of the kill again. He looked back and motioned Rug forward with the torch. The fire was sputtering a bit at this point, and Rug lit a fresh one off the diminishing flames.

Rug handed the fresh torch out and Talut took it and slowly reached out and moved the soft light of the fire over the edge of the wooden platform. Nothing. He held his arm a little closer to the platform side and made another pass with the torch. He slowed when he saw a spot of blood, and moved the torch more in that direction.

The dead, mangled animal came into view as the flickering light of the small flames lit the area. Dark fur, deep red/auburn blood surrounding all around him and splattering the grey stone, and an oblong pile of curled entrails spilling out from between its legs. The head was long and broad and had pointed tipped ears projecting out near the top of the skull. Fat tufts of stiff looking, course hair jutted out from under the dark eyes and from the sides of its lower jaws. Two long, sharp, curving teeth came poking up and slightly out from the squared off lower jaw. It was an ominous, dangerous looking animal, built a lot like a suidae, but a little thinner.

"I don't know what that is, but it sure is odd looking." Talut whispered.

"Look at those tusks." Danug said as he leaned over, holding onto Talut's broad shoulder to keep his balance.

Rug thought the animal looked like it was good to eat. The panther must like him, he thought to himself. Those tusks would look good on a thong hanging around my neck, he mused as Talut backed away from the side of the platform and handed the torch back to him.

Talut had a good grip on his spear as he led them down the steps and turned back to the west. The trail was flat here, but began to drop off into a much steeper, narrower descent rather quickly. He maintained a much slower pace as the narrow trail dropped down and wound narrowly around a jutting boulder that looked as if it was about to tumble on down the cliff at any time.

The sky was clear and the stars just starting to fade. The first signs of dawn weren't too far away.

**********

The hunters gathered at the base of the cliff. The breeze was strong, and carried the entire smorgasbord of strong and more subtle scents from the flats in with it. The sky was still dark, but the first signs of the dawning was just visible on the far eastern horizon. The animals of the flats looked like no more than black stains amongst the dark wavy grasses, discerning species would have been impossible.

Brug looked out over the gathering, thinking to himself for a moment before he started signing with Tornec beside him. As Brug signed, Tornec kept up a running translation softly.

'We will stay close to the cliff and work our way east until we reach the taller grass. Then we break into the three groups. Stay quiet and low.'

As soon as Tornec finished, Brug took a long final look at the assembled hunters. The sprigs of grass and small leaf covered branches placed in the loops as camouflage softened the profiles of the hunters considerably. Even this close, their body shapes were drastically distorted, the colors of the camouflage blending into the background very effectively. He was satisfied, the hunters were ready. Brug took a deep breath, and reached up to grasp his amulet, his fingers picking out the miniature spear point Branag had made for him so very long ago. It gave him a large measure of comfort and confidence as usual.

Brug turned and took off to the east winding through the tufts of tall weeds and occasional rocks. The men strung out in a long line behind him, all hunched over and moving as quietly as possible. They stayed low and covered quite a distance before Brug slowed to a stop and gathered them back together again. It was a place where several large rocks had broken off the cliff and formed a small outcrop from the base of the cliff that pushed out into the grass a way. The refuse area where they threw animal remains off the cliff was close enough to smell from here.

Brug waved his arm slowly from left to right, using his spear as a pointer. The hunters broke into the three groups they had decided on the night before, except for Tornec who stayed beside Brug. Brug waited until they were assembled and still. It was now just light enough to see as the first light of the new day glowed softly.

'Wait until we are in place and split wide before setting up in the grass.' Brug signed, then turned to Talut and signed again. 'Ready?'

Talut grinned and nodded, then Brug turned and crouched down and took off out into the grass. A group of six men followed him, while another six stayed with Talut as he gave Brug a little time to put a small gap between them, then he followed in Brug's footsteps. The last group of nine hunters waited until Talut was well out in front of them before following a good distance back.

The grasses of the flats tended to grow in patches of differing types and colors. Some species were much more heavily grazed than others, though all were eaten on regularly. One type was a particularly thick stemmed, course grass that was a rather light green variety that grew waist high in thick patches that only the buffalo and naked mammoths seemed to like to eat. It was plentiful but grew in sporadic clumps, occasionally, rhinos ate on it also. Between these clumps, shorter varieties of darker green grasses tended to grow in thick carpets that were much more heavily grazed upon. Some were deep green while others were a much lighter, thinner leafed green. Lots of dark areas of bare dirt where the grass had been eaten down to ground level or pulled up by the roots dotted these wide patches.

Brug wound his way out onto the flats, moving from one sizable tall clump of the course, taller grass to the next. With every step he got closer to the herds of the flats. The nearest herd was a small group of mostly older wildebeasts. They were congregated a little off to the southeast, but Brug led the hunters more southwest, skirting this small herd. They were wary, but while keeping an eye on the odd looking hunters that came in and out of their line of sight, they pretty much stayed where they were.

As they made their way past this small herd, Brug veered back more due south toward the large herd of buffalo. This herd was immense, thickly congregated at the center and spreading out a little in smaller groups breaking off to graze. Beyond them, an even larger herd of dark colored wildebeasts straggled out in a wide, thick line closer to the river in the far distance to the south.

To the west, a good sized group of the oddly striped horses grazed on the short grass at the edge of the grassy flats. Between them, a pair of naked rhinoceros with a single calf chewed on some of the course, taller grass. A small pack of hyenas lounged nearby, but the huge rhinos paid them little mind.

Brug stopped at the edge of a large clump of course grass. He studied the terrain out in front of him as the rest of the hunters ducked into the sparse cover to wait. A large pride of lions lay around in a loose formation in a barren, dusty place in the far edge of some of the overly grazed short grass to his west. The huge male had two small cubs climbing on him playing at attacking his twitching ears. The females all lay in the bare dirt with the single exception of the lead female who sat proudly watching all around them. It was a large pride with more lions than Brug had fingers.

Just past the lions on to the south, a single gemsbok pulled large clumps of grass from the earth, complete with clods clinging to the roots, to chew on. A large, powerful animal, his long straight horns stood defiantly high above his black and white head. Few predators worried him, but he did glance often at the pride of lions as he ate.

A single vulture stood tall on the ground with his huge, wide wings spread out catching the warm rays of the slowly brightening sun.

Brug made a hand sign to Talut who grinned and nodded. The hunters split into two lines and took off again to the south, moving parallel to each other fifty paces apart. The tall grasses were less and less plentiful, and both lines of hunters stayed as low as they could as they headed south. They traveled side by side together, the gap between them widening slightly as they neared the herd of buffalo.

A cheetah trotted off to the west of them almost like he was following the hunters. Glancing over toward them often, he outpaced them in no time, veering back more westerly and getting small fast. A small group of impala broke from the short grass and ran away from him, circling around to get back behind the quick moving cat to a safer position.

The buffalo were slowly scattering out more and more to graze, and a group splintered off to move toward the river to the east for their morning drink. Another group of mostly females with young broke of and moved northerly to a bright green patch of short grass. A couple of large, burly males went with them, keeping their distance to the west side. One of the calves trotted out to the males, lowering his head when he reached them and butting the larger of the two in the back leg. The old male nudged him playfully, and a small scuffle began. The calf was intent on showing his dominance, and the adult played along.

Brug slowed and knelt in the short grass as he stopped. Talut saw him from father to the west and pulled his group up and settled in to wait. The trailing group of men stopped too. When they saw Brug duck down and effectively disappear from sight, Branag gave them a signal and they scattered out into a wide, inverted 'vee' shape and hunkered down too.

Talut scanned the area, his eyes stopping at the far eastern edge of the flats at the beginning of the brush. A pair of tall giraffes pulled small twigs covered with leaves from a stand of brush. Talut's mouth watered at the memory of the tasty, fat marbled meat.

The buffalo herd was breaking up into small feeding groups, and it was time for Brug to make a decision. He studied their movements, looking for just the right situation. Nothing looked promising yet, so Brug looked back and made a sign for his men to get comfortable. Brug was determined to get his hunters into the perfect scenario, this hunt was important, it must go well.

Though it seemed like forever, it wasn't really all that long before the group of females and their calves moved farther off to the northeast. Talut counted nine adults and five young, not counting the calf that ventured out to hang with the two males. They moved from patch to patch of the deep green grass that they seemed to favor over all the other types. The two males and the calf stayed with them, but gave them lots of room, content to graze on their own while inadvertently increasing the distance between them as the females grazed peacefully.

A single male kudu walked along the edge of the herd of buffalo at a respectable distance in no particular hurry. His magnificent corkscrew shaped horns and light colored body with the lighter, thin vertical stripes caused him to stand out from the darker buffalo easily. Though smaller in bulk, he was as tall as the heavy bodied buffalo, but he appeared to have no natural fear of them.

Brug glanced over toward Talut and his band. At first he couldn't find them, then he spotted Talut's hand as he held it up just over his head. The camouflage worked well, he thought as he made a slow, exaggerated sign to be ready. Even from this distance of thirty odd paces away Brug could see Talut's wide grin.

The sun cleared the horizon completely now, and the heat began to slowly build as the breeze became more sporadic and gusty. Heat waves could now be seen rising toward the sky over the flats, giving a shimmering appearance to the grazing animals and the swaying grass.

The female group strayed back to the east, stopping at a wide patch of bright green, short grass. When they stopped, Brug took a deep breath before turning back to his hunters. His hand quivered slightly as he signed.

'Will give signal now, be ready.' Brug turned back toward Talut and reached his hand up and slowly clenched his fist.

Talut grinned even wider, then turned back toward his hunters and whispered loud enough for all to hear. "Here we go, stay low and wait for my signal."

The band of hunters followed Talut as he stayed low, almost crawling, moving directly south. They grouped up close together as Talut moved steadily, but slowly.

Brug tried to follow them, but he lost them from time to time the camouflage clothing worked so well. Only when they went through the shortest grass could he see them with any clarity. Most of the time they seemed nothing more than a slow moving blur.

Time stood still as Talut's hunters moved into their final position, having successfully circled around the buffalo. Brug was as patient a hunter as the camp had, but he had a hard time containing himself as the hunters got into place, flanking the small group of females and their young from the rest of the herd. Sweat dripped off his forehead and onto his prominent nose. Flies settled onto his bare arms, some biting, others just walking around tickling him to no end. One settled on his cheek and bit him, drawing a small spot of blood.

Brug saw them stand up and charge before he heard their whoops and hollers. Talut and his men scattered out into a crooked line and ran at the female buffalo trying to get between them and the rest of the herd. They ran so hard at them, the females instinctively ran directly away from the men, first to the east, then more northerly as Talut and Danug cut them off speeding to get around them.

The two males looked up, confused at first, then one of them took off to try and get between the females and the sudden appearance of the humans. The younger male stayed with the calf, facing off against the hunters who moved past them, running hard. He lowered his head, brandishing his upswept horns menacingly. The calf tucked himself in under his rear legs, bawling loudly.

As the herd veered away from Talut and Danug, the other hunters, led by Jozen closed in on them, forcing them to turn almost due north. The young were already beginning to tire and fall back, and the females were forced to slow up to allow them to keep up. The large male caught up with them quickly, snorting and slobbering from his brief, frantic run.

Brug watched it all play out, and was as tense as he could be. The females would pass by them to the east by a little if they kept on their current course. It was all going perfectly according to plan. Brug felt a nervous twitching in his right arm as he gripped his spear so hard the veins stuck out on his hand.

Talut was huffing and puffing as he and Danug veered off again to force the herd more northerly. Danug was panting loudly as he waved his spear and made himself appear as large and wide as possible to move the frightened herd. Ludeg and Jozen sped up, yelling and waving their spears as the females tried to keep the young ones toward the center of the tight group.

Another three large males broke off from the main herd, trotting toward the female herd. None of the charging hunters noticed as busy as they were.

Brug tensed up, and quickly signed to the men behind him. 'Get ready.'

The herd of females slowed even more, and Talut's crew had formed a loose semi-circle behind them. They slowed up just enough to keep the frightened females in front of them, but kept the pressure on.

The huge male spun around to face the charging group, dropping his head and pawing at the dirt with his front foot. He snorted, lines of white spittle running out his mouth and widely flared nostrils from both sides. Shaking his head from side to side, he looked ferocious, and very angry.

Talut's hunters split around him as they approached. Ludeg and Jozen squared up to the male head on, while Danug and Thorec encroached form each side. The rest of the hunters split past the bull and ran on.

The old bull snorted again, then charged right at Ludeg and Jozen. Danug didn't hesitate, he stepped forward and let his spear fly with all the strength he had. Thorec let his spear go an instant later. Both spears were accurate, and hit the bull in the front shoulder and in the ribs on the other side. The new heavy spears penetrated deeply, knocking the powerful bull off course, but he came on.

Ludeg got off a spear, then ran a few steps off to his right as it crashed into the bull square in the chest. Jozen let fly, his spear taking the bull in the upper neck sending out a wide spew of blood as it severed the main artery. Jozen sprinted to his left, pulling another spear from his scabbard.

The powerful bull faltered as his targets scattered apart before him, and as he turned to chase Jozen, Jozen hit him with another spear in the chest. The bull staggered, then bellowed as he fell to his knees. The hunters left him there, chasing the herd of females.

Behind them, the three large bulls from the main herd cut the distance steadily and rapidly.

Brug saw the dust rising behind the hunters just as he gave the signal to his men. When he jumped up to give chase to the herd of females, he saw the three charging males closing in behind the other hunters. Brug's hunters joined the chase, forcing the females to veer back to the northwest to get away from the new threat. Salen was in the lead, and Brug let them go, turning back toward Talut and his men. The bulls were now almost to them, and he screamed out in warning.

Ludeg saw Brug and spun around to see the three bulls, and called out to his hunters. They all dropped off the chase, and tried to assemble. They were just too scattered out, Ludeg and Jozen paired up and Thorec managed to get over to them just as the first wave of spears were fired off. Talut and Danug hurried toward the three men, but it didn't look good. Both of them threw spears with all the power they could muster, then pulled fresh ones from their scabbards as the ran. Frebec approached with Druwez from the opposite side, firing off a spear as he ran.

Two of the three bulls were hit, one with two spears, the other with four. The lead bull caught three spears in the second wave from Ludeg, Jozen, and Thorec. All three charged on, but they were all hurt badly and already slowing.

**********

Salen led Brug's hunters as they chased the herd toward the ambush. They all were fresh, and pumped up from waiting and watching Talut's hunters start the chase.

The females were all breathing hard now, and the calves flagging badly. Salen and Troog got out to the east of the herd and managed to turn them a little more due north as Draag and Ranec pushed them from the rear. A calf stumbled and fell, kicking up dust into a small cloud as he bawled out loudly.

**********

The lead bull crashed face first to the ground, snapping spear shafts as he rolled over, struggling to get back on his feet. The bull to his left fell also, his legs still kicking as his heavy body rolled to the side.

Jozen lifted his spear, but he knew it was too late. The wounded bull was on him and he dove to his left. The bull's curved horn caught him in the calf, spinning him up and around and he hit the ground face first, eating a mouthful of dirt.

Ludeg smashed a spear into the bulls neck, just below his head, blood spurted out in a shower. Danug fired off a spear that hit the bull in the ribs so hard that the crack sounded almost like thunder. The bull swayed on his feet, bellowed out, then toppled over.

**********

The ground seemed to rise up in front of the panting female herd. Spears flew from each of the tall grass clumps and cries and snorts echoed out from all over the small herd. Calves and adults alike were hit from all angles as the herd was now surrounded on three sides, with more humans coming in from behind them. Crying out and bawling, the adults tried to circle the calves to protect them to no avail. None escaped the fury of the attack as Brug's hunters closed the deadly circle.

**********

Jozen felt the stab of pain and the intense burn in his leg as he tried to roll over and get up. The leg was a huge ball of throbbing waves of pain, and it didn't support him at all. He tumbled back over, hitting the ground flat on his back. When he looked up, Talut was there, grabbing him by the armpits and hauling him up onto his shoulder like he weighed nothing at all.

Talut stunk of sweat and strong body odor, but nothing had ever smelled quite so good at that particular moment.

**********

Brenan and Vincavec worked feverishly over Jozen's injured leg. The muscle was torn, skin mangled, and the bones were both exposed near his ankle, one of them broken and jutting apart. He bled badly. Vincavec pulled a pouch of moss spores and ground datura from a pair of pouches from his medicine bag, mixing them together in the palm of his hand. Brenan held pressure on and just above the open tear, pulling the muscle striations back together with his other hand.

Vincavec leaned in and pressed some of the powdered mixture into the open bleeders, moving down the calf until he had at least slowed the bleeding at all the most troubling areas. One place still spurted blood at regular intervals, and Brenan reached over to pinch it off. The bleeding slowed, then Vincavec pinched it off up a little higher and it slowed to a trickle.

Brenan reached in and pulled the torn muscle away from the broken bone, and grasped it with both hands. With a powerful pull, he managed to seat the bone back together.

"Got it!" He said as he leaned back and grabbed a clean square of rabbit skin and poured fresh water over it from his water pouch. Brenan started cleaning the wound, but he worried, there was a lot of dirt all over the torn up leg. Infection was almost certain, he thought, we have to get him back quickly to have any chance of saving him.

All around behind them, the hunters worked fast. The buffalo were skinned out and the best cuts of meat butchered quickly and piled onto the skins. The calves were butchered the heaviest, most of their meat cut away and piled up while on the older cows, only the choicest cuts were taken.

The hunters were finished up and ready to go before Vincavec and Brenan had Jozen's leg completely wrapped up. They started back, laden heavily with skins full of meat over their shoulders and walking heavily. Brenan and Vincavec finished tying off the wrapping over the leg, and hoisted Jozen up and supported him by wrapping his arms over their shoulders. Jozen used his good leg to hop along between them, helping them to catch up with the rest of the hunters. His sweat and blood streaked face a constant grimace as he did his best to help.

Talut, Danug, and Branag all had two skins of meat tied together at the top, and draped over their broad shoulders, carrying twice as much as anyone else. They were in the center of the pack, and keeping up well so far. Brenan and Vincavec caught up with the tail end of the group, passing Ludeg and Thorec who slowed intentionally and acted as a rear guard.

Behind them, the predators were already showing up. First came the wide winged vultures, soaring in from the skies above, then the hyenas came in from the west. A cheetah trotted in from the southwest, and ran off a pair of jackals from one of the huge bulls. A large pack of dholes approached from the woods to the southeast. Sounds of fights amongst them began as kills were claimed and fought over.

The hunters plodded back toward the cliff as hard as they could go. The weight of their burdens getting heavier with every step.

Jozen passed out from the pain and the massive loss of blood, and Brenan and Vincavec had to drag him along. It slowed them up, but the fear of losing contact with the group kept them going hard. Both healers knew that Jozen needed a lot more work if he was going to make it without being crippled for good, and this motivation alone kept them moving forward as hard as they could go.

The cliff loomed straight ahead, but it didn't get closer fast enough for any of them. The sense of urgency made the distance seem to grow instead of decreasing. They plodded on, hurrying as much as they could.

**********

The grass began to thicken and get taller as the approached the cliff. Another two hundred paces or so, and they would begin the long ascent.

Talut led now, even with the double skin of meat, his incredible strength allowed him to go harder and faster than the rest of the weary group. His face was red and he sweat rivers, but the bulging muscles of his arms stood out as a testament to his fierce determination.

Brenan and Vincavec were doing their best, but they fell further and further back in the long, broken line of hunters. Only Thorec and Ludeg were behind them now, and the two rear guards had to keep prodding them on so that they wouldn't lose touch with the rest of them.

Up ahead, Talut and Danug were almost to the cliff. They slowed to a stop and looked back at the long straggling line. It would take a bit for them all to bunch up again, and Talut knew he could use the welcome break while they waited.

Thorec stopped to shift the weight of the heavy skin over his shoulder, it was falling too much to the side and hindering his balance something awful. With a lurch, he pulled the tied end back up higher, then did it again. On the second try, the weight was again manageable but just as he took a step forward, he heard it. Thorec spun around and saw the lions trotting toward him from the southeast. The low pitched 'hhnngg-hhnngg' sounds as they came at him continued.

They were less than fifty paces away, and closing.

**********

Talut wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand and squinted into the bright sun out over the straggling line of hunters. They all looked tired and worn down from hauling the heavy loads at the rapid pace they had kept up all morning. His eyes followed the line back out into the tall, swaying patches of grass. He looked past Branag, Martag, and Mekan leading the way, Branag carrying two heavy skins by himself. Frebec and Tornec were near the front of the line, then Talut followed it all the way back. Toward the rear, Troog and Salen were just out in front of Brenan and Vincavec who plodded along heavily, struggling to carry an unconscious Jozen who was a lump of limp, dead weight.

A big grin slowly spread over his face when he looked back closer up the line and stopped to watch Druwez and Mortan. They were roughly in the center and it pleased Talut when he saw how well the two worked together. They carried a heavy, lumpy, bulging skin suspended between two tied together spears over their shoulders. The boys were definitely carrying their own share of the load, he thought. Even from this far away Talut could see the sweaty muscles rippling and bulging in Druwez' arms as he paused to shifted the load a little closer to his neck. The son of his hearth would probably never be quite as big or burly as he was. Druwez would never be near as large as Danug was getting, but he would be awfully stout, Talut thought with pride.

Talut couldn't be more satisfied with how well the hunt had gone. Though it took a lot of work and patience to get into position, the plan had been pulled off flawlessly. They had obtained a huge supply of choice meat that would make for a wonderful feast, and so much more, at a minimal cost. Vincavec had assured Talut that Jozen should be alright if they could get him back quickly enough, and Talut had tremendous faith in the healers of this camp. Jozen didn't worry Talut too much, he was in very capable hands. It was going to be a constant learning curve, Talut conceded to himself, hunting in these lands, and in the flats in particular, would always be a dangerous adventure.

That Brug, he thought with a chuckle, what a hunter he has become. Who could have ever thought that the most efficient hunter I have ever known could have been not much more than a child of the Clan, he mused. Brug was growing up fast, though, right before my eyes.

Danug dropped his own twin skin load at his feet and stood up straight next to Talut, grateful for the respite, however brief it would be. He was sore and tired, and more than a little glad to be out from under the heavy load for at least a little bit. Sweat ran down his face causing small, thin clean spots on his dust spattered face and forehead. Taking Talut's lead, Danug turned back and gazed out over the long line too.

The huge cliff loomed tall and formidable right behind them. Another obstacle between the hunters and the camp.

Talut put his hand on Danug's shoulder affectionately, noticing really for the first time that Danug was fully as tall as he was now, though Talut still had him beat in overall size and girth. Danug's arms and shoulders were almost as broad and thickly muscled as his own, but he was considerably thinner from the center of his chest down. Danug doesn't have near the belly that I do, he thought with a satisfied smirk, squeezing the powerful muscles in Danug's shoulder.

Danug smiled at the squeeze, then suddenly his eyes went wide as he instinctively looked out to the last man in line. Talut had been following the line from the nearest men on out to those the farthest away, the opposite of where Danug had looked. He suddenly cupped his hands on each side of his mouth and screamed out as loudly as he could.

"Ludeg, Thorec—LIONS!!! LIONS---RUN!!! HURRY!!!" Danug's big voice carried easily, and he pointed frantically behind the last two men, then took off running as fast as he could.

The line of hunters all spun around in rapid succession. One by one, group by group, most of them quickly began dropping bulging skins of meat and grabbing for weapons.

Talut shouted, he cupped his hands around his mouth as Danug had done.

"Drop the meat, they're only after the meat! Drop the meat and run!" Talut then took off after Danug, as fast as he could run.

Ludeg turned at the shout, Thorec was eight or nine paces behind him and he was rapidly pulling his heavy, thick spear up and across his body, facing away from him. Ludeg and Thorec both saw the lions coming fast, all six of them. Thorec appeared to be bracing himself, he was going to stand his ground, Ludeg realized with a momentary panic for his friend. Ludeg had a fleeting thought as he shrugged the heavy skin off his shoulder, how did I allow Thorec get so far behind me?

Brenan and Vincavec both glanced back, and seeing the ominous sight behind them, dug in and redoubled their efforts to get Jozen out of harms way. It was clumsy and difficult, as they tried to pick up their pace they fell out of balance with each other and Jozen's bulk and weight hindered their progress considerably.

Ranec and Draag both dropped their loads and started back toward the danger. Troog and Salen passed them as they pulled extra spears from the scabbards across their backs at a dead run. Brug was ahead of them all, having dropped his burden and was busy pulling the huge bow over his shoulder as he ran as fast as his short legs could manage. Small puffs of dust popping up with every rapid, frantic step.

The lead lioness was slightly faster than her cohorts who were a little spread out behind her. In a long series of bounds, she covered the remaining ground to Thorec more quickly than seemed possible. She gathered herself up as she leapt in a surge of power and strength that sent her airborne directly at her target.

Thorec lifted his spear up crossways just in time to shove it into the lion's open mouth as the incredible force of her muscular body bowled him over. They rolled over in a heap, dust flying as the lioness grabbed onto the bulging skin of meat with one set of outstretched claws and the center of Thorec's back with the other. She pulled both claws in, wrapping her stout legs around Thorec and squeezing him. Her rear legs drove her forward in powerful lunges, pushing them across the ground sending up a cloud of dust. Thorec screamed out in pain as the long, sharp claws dug into his back through the thin leather of his vest-like tunic, crushing his body against hers.

Ludeg fired off a spear as he took off running forward, taking the next closest lion to his right in the upper shoulder, causing her to spin to the side and roar out her displeasure.

The lead lioness was trying to bite through the spear and Thorec was struggling mightily to keep her sharp teeth away from his face. They rolled over again and Ludeg threw himself on her back, his knife clutched in his right hand. Ludeg dug the knife deeply into the lion's neck, just below the base of her head and the blade snapped off at a long angle just at the handle with a dry sounding crack. The three of them crashed to the ground, hard, a cloud of dust rising all around them.

Yanking his arm back, Ludeg stabbed at the lion again with all his might. The jagged edge of the short remainder of the blade ripping a shallow gash in her thick skin.

Without warning, a second lion tackled him from behind. They rolled in a sprawling heap. Ludeg felt the sharp pain of her teeth in his shoulder as he went face first into the dirt. His right arm pushed hard into his chest as he hit the ground and his left arm was useless as his shoulder was firmly in the powerful clutches of her sharp teeth.

Spears flew overhead with a soft whistling sound, and two of the lions were hit, one was hit twice. The wounded lion that Ludeg had hit was has spun around and now was encroaching the turmoil again, roaring and angry as she came.

Brug pulled up, ripping an arrow out from the scabbard that hung a little out of place across his back. He tried to regain his breathing as he knocked the arrow into place. Pulling the bow up, he took a deep breath and had a sudden cringe of fear that he was too far away to be accurate with this new weapon.

A lioness leapt onto the twisting pile and knocked the other cat off Ludeg inadvertently as they hit the ground all together in a sprawl of arms, legs, and claws. Roars and screams and grunts rang out all at the same time.

Suddenly freed, Ludeg twisted around and lurched back toward Thorec who was losing the battle with the heavy lioness. He pulled his legs under him and lunged forward grabbing her ears and throwing all his weight on her and tried to knock her off Thorec. With a mighty, jerking twist of her body, she threw him sprawling off her and over her other side.

As Ludeg rolled over to get up again, an unseen lion grabbed him from behind by the thigh and bit down, hard. Claws dug into his leg on either side of her head. Ludeg's scream was pure agony to the hunters trying frantically to get their to help, giving them all a fresh burst of energy. Another lion spun around and came at him, head on.

Thorec's arms were rapidly giving out. The incredible strength and weight of the constantly twisting and turning of the powerful cat was quickly taking its toll on what few reserves of strength he had left. She pulled hard against his back as she struggled to turn him over again, ripping through the flesh of his back causing Thorec to scream out again in pure agony. The thick spear shaft made of the dark, dense wood held, but the lion wrenched against it harder. And harder.

Ludeg swung out with both fists, pummeling the lions head and she twisted hard and ripped even deeper into his thickly muscled thigh with a determined new surge of power in her bite. Ludeg screamed again and hit her even harder, bruising his fists against her hard skull. She bit down even harder and Ludeg fell back in fresh surge of pain, screaming out again just as he was crushed under the weight of the other lion that leapt on top of him.

Troog flung his spear just before he hit the lion on top of Ludeg with all his weight at full speed. He stabbed her deeply in the upper neck with his knife as he carried her off Ludeg with the force of his strong body. They hit the ground and rolled, and Troog yanked his knife through her neck with a powerful pull. Blood spewed, spraying his face and blinding him for a moment, but he just pulled harder and dug the knife deeper. And deeper.

The lions were all over Ludeg, Troog, and Thorec now, and Brug knew he had to try, new weapon or not, accurate or not. Time for any indecision was past, there was no more time. His arms rippled with the strain of pulling the arrow back against the overly stout tension of the bow until the feathers of the arrow tickled his ear. He sighted down the shaft, then took another deep breath and released the string. Brug heard the loud 'twang' and felt the sharp pain as the snap of the bow string slapped his bare forearm. He watched the arrow fly away at a speed his eyes could barely follow. Be accurate, he thought as he sent out a silent plea to his totem, the small but mighty wolverine. Brug reached over his shoulder for another arrow.

Suddenly, a thin feathered shaft appeared just behind her ear and the lioness relaxed the pressure of her bite. The bloody bone point of the arrow stuck out on the other side of her face, half the length of his arm. Ludeg yanked his leg, the flesh tearing as he pulled himself free. Flopping over and lurching up onto his hands and knees, he saw another lion leaping for him. His eyes bulged as he ducked just in time for her to sail over him, raking his back with her back feet as she tried to spin in mid air and flew on, just past him. Ludeg screamed out from the added pain.

Troog grasped the skin of the side of the lion's face, distorting her features grotesquely and pulled her head around as he yanked the knife free. He stabbed her again just behind the ear, driving the blade in all the way to the hilt. The lion shuddered and Troog felt her strong body begin to spasm and sag as she fell onto him, dying. Her substantial weight pinned him to the ground as he pulled the knife on through the meat of her neck, his arms bulging and rippling with the incredible strength of the man.

Thorec pushed hard against the spear as the cat twisted it in the strong grip of her mighty jaws. He was losing, she was just too strong and her head dipped perilously closer and closer to his face as the grip of her sharp claws dug deeper into his back. Just as he was about to succumb to her incredible surge of power, a sharp, bloody carved bone point suddenly protruded out of her right ear. The cat's entire body lurched in a great, powerful jerk, and Thorec felt her strength begin to wane. Another arrow appeared in the center of her rib cage, burying itself deeply, the feathered butt end quivering. The lioness screamed out in a gurgling, partly choked off voice of pure pain as her jaws released the spear shaft and she lolled over to the side. It was like she was trying somehow to get to the new source of pain.

With a mighty shove, with every single bit of the remaining strength left in his arms, Thorec pushed her heavy jerking body, off him to the ground on his right side. The raking claws imbedded deeply in his back disappeared and as he sat up a spear thudded into the side of the twitching lioness beside him. The scream of a lion jerked his head around, and the scene of carnage made his stomach churn and almost made him puke.

Five lions lay dead or dying, writhing in the dust. Another dragged herself by her front legs away from him. A pair of spears knocked her over in rapid succession, and she grunted at the hard impact of the spears as they knocked her the rest of the way to the ground.

Troog shoved the lioness off him, the muscles in his thick arms bulging from the effort. It took three pushes to get her off him, and when he finished he rolled over and got up quickly. Troog looked around as he pulled a spear from the crooked scabbard, the threat was finally over.

Thorec's body trembled, everything he could feel hurt and the world slowly spun around and gradually went black before him as he lost consciousness and fell back over to the ground. He didn't feel his head hit the dusty ground with a thud.

Ludeg pulled himself over to Thorec, half crawling, half dragging his incredibly painful body through the grass. His mangled leg trailed a ragged line of blood in the dirt, staining the bright green grass. His vision was clouded, his left eye saw the world through a deep red tint as the hot blood ran over his face. He grabbed Thorec by the shoulder and pulled him over a bit, seeing that though out, he was alive. Relief washed over Ludeg as he took a deep breath and rolled over. He opened his eyes and looked up into the stern, sweaty face of Brug standing over him, his long bow held firmly across his thick body, an arrow poised. Ludeg smiled broadly at the welcome sight, then his eyes rolled back in his head and he promptly passed out.

Brug looked out into the distance of the flats to see the huge male lion sitting peacefully in the short grass. Three cubs and four adolescents sat around and behind him. One of the young females took a few steps towards the carnage, but a short grunt from the male made her turn back. She paced about nervously but stayed well behind the male to keep from risking his ire and obvious short temper.

**********

Draag cradled Ludeg in his arms, carrying him almost gently as he hurried toward the healers despite his slight limp. Danug carried Thorec the same way beside him, matching the shorter man step for step. Branag walked beside Troog who showed a little favor to his left arm slightly, both men had two skins of meat slung over their shoulders and walked heavily under the load. Brug also carried two bulging , heavy skins, showing off his ever growing strength and stamina. It had simply cost too much to leave anything behind.

Frebec and Ranec followed closely behind them, forming a rear guard even though they carried a skin each of meat. Energized by the excitement and the danger, it seemed as if everyone except for the injured had a fresh bit of stamina.

At the base of the cliff, Brenan had a small skin laid out on the ground with several packets of medicines already opened. Vincavec was busy pouring water over three small square de-haired rabbit skins. Dark splotches of dried blood covered both men.

Talut gently laid Jozen down on the first landing. The wooden structure had a wide flat spot where it turned toward the upper side of the trail back up the cliff. Jozen was still unconscious. Talut knelt down and looked over the bloody bandage on Jozen's lower leg, it seeped a bit, but looked like it was still doing its job.

He stood back up and looked down and watched the hunters all gathering loosely at the base of the cliff. Most would stop there and rest for a bit before starting the climb up the cliff trail. Danug and Draag were almost to the spot the healers were preparing for the wounded.

Talut's mind wandered a bit as he thought about what Brug had done. The boy had saved the lives of two of his hunters, no doubt about it. The other hunters were not going to get to them in time, only Troog had been able to get there during the actual fight, and he had been magnificent. Troog alone had probably saved Ludeg, but he had gotten into trouble again, and it was Brug's arrows that had saved him that time for sure.

What a weapon, Talut thought, clearly in awe of the effectiveness. Brug had to have had help from his totem, or maybe it was Mut or even Ursus, Talut's musings continued, he couldn't possibly have so much skill already with this bow and arrow—or could he? He thought about this for a moment, thinking back to Brug's early development with his hunting skills. Brug was possibly the best hunter of the Clan with the throwing spear, and the fishing spears as well. Though he didn't have quite the range that Troog had, he did have enough power to knock down almost any animal. The boy did have luck, too, he had shown that often enough. Luck was necessary for any hunter, and the more they hunted the luckier they got, this Talut knew for sure.

Talut watched Brug as he walked with the two heavy skins, he was strong, much stronger than Mortan or even Druwez. Stronger, yet considerably younger. Talut's experience with people of the Clan was limited, but now he knew for sure that they must mature earlier than his own people. Brug had seen a little more than six years, and already he was strong as a bull aurochs, Talut thought, grinning proudly. What a benefit it is to have him. What a magnificent hunter.

Vincavec and Brenan went to work, ganging up on Ludeg first, dressing his wounds and doing their best to at least slow some of the bleeding. When Brenan started on the last bandage, Vincavec started in quickly on Thorec.

Both men had a variety of wounds, a few that bled badly. Ludeg's thigh was a real concern, it was mangled pretty bad, and the deep gouges in Thorec's back required extra attention as well.

Troog had a few deep scratches, and a badly bruised upper arm but nothing any where near as serious as what the other two had. By the time Brenan got to him, several of the hunters were already well up the trail of the cliff.

As soon as they were able, Brenan enlisted the help of several others to get the wounded up. Though Thorec and Troog both declined help, Ludeg couldn't make it on his own. Brenan and Vincavec started to get on either side of Ludeg, but Branag stepped in and insisted he could handle it. Branag leaned over and picked up Ludeg, cradling him easily in his huge, muscular arms. He turned and walked effortlessly to the base of the cliff, and started up without a backwards glance.

At the first landing, Danug picked up Jozen the same way, and followed Tornec up the steep path. The rest of the hunters ahead of him moved on steadily, but carefully. Everyone else started up behind him, and the long line of men was continuous again.

The roar of the huge male lion sounded out from the flats. He was now at the original scene of the hunt, and with his roar of warning, he claimed one of the larger carcasses for what was left of his pride.

A large group of hyenas claimed what was left of the lions, along with a small pack of dholes and a few jackals. The vultures stood around waiting their turn, a few more circled with wide outstretched wings as they soared on the rising thermal currents.

The herds of grazers moved back away from the pockets of dead animals, then stayed in slightly tighter formations than usual. It was about the time of day when they normally went to water at the river or the lake, and many moved slowly in that direction.

**********

Brug took a break at the second landing, dropping his heavy load on the wooden platform with a thud. He signed at Frebec just behind him, saying he would catch up and for them to go on.

Frebec nodded, then signed back for him not to be too long. Ranec and Frebec moved on past him, working their way up the steep path slowly, careful of their footing.

Brug wiped the sweat off his brow and looked out over the flats below, watching the slow moving activities with great interest. His mind kept going back to firing off the arrows at the lions. He had missed with his second arrow completely when his target lioness had jumped at Troog, but the other three had flown as straight and true as any he had ever shot. If he had missed, even a little bit, he could have killed Thorec or Ludeg or even Troog. His hands still shook slightly when he thought about it, like they did right now. Brug grasped the horizontal support bar and then leaned his chest on it as he stilled his hands with a deep breath.

'Thank you my totem, the mighty wolverine, for guiding my arrows true.' He signed looking up into the brightness of the sky. 'Ursus, you have watched over me and protected me for my entire life. I owe you more than I will ever be able to repay. This man is grateful.'

When he finished, he stooped down and picked up the bulky skins of meat tied together, throwing it heavily over each side of his shoulder. Brug looked down on the flats one last time, and spotted a slight movement at the edge of the brush to the southeast. A tall, dark skinned youth faced him from beside a particularly deep green bush and held one hand up with his bow clutched in it, waving it back and forth slowly. Even from this far away, Brug could see the bright white teeth of the young man as he smiled at him.

Brug bared his teeth in return, then lifted his free hand, and made it into a fist slowly, then nodded at the young man. Then he turned away and started walking slowly, continuing the long climb up the cliff.

**********

The return trip up the side of the cliff was arduous and time consuming. The loads were heavy and cumbersome and carrying two injured hunters as well proved difficult at best. They switched off helping the unconscious and the wounded, and by the time they finally reached the top, both Jozen and Ludeg were waking up. Both men were in a lot of pain.

From the cliff, it didn't take too long to get back to the camp. Mortan had been sent on ahead to get the main lodge prepared for the healers and to send help back. Many ran back to lend a hand.

Tressie and Matera were waiting and ready when they finally arrived. Bowls and baskets of hot water and potions for pain simmered, while pastes and salves were mixed and waiting. Latie scuttled around frantically and had a pile of small, soft skins ready and her sewing kit was opened up and spread out beside her when she finally came to a stop.

The entire camp was in a semi-controlled uproar when the first of the hunters and helpers made it in. Helpful hands relieved tired men of their burdens, and the men and women went into action to clean and cut up the meat, while others started in stretching out and preparing the skins for curing.

Jozen and Ludeg were brought in quickly and laid down onto pallets of soft furs in the center of the floor of the lodge on either side of the small fire, while Thorec and Troog sat by and waited their turns. It took a bit for Brenan and Vincavec to get cleaned up enough to help, and while they were busy, Matera and Tressie cut the ragged clothing away from the wounds of the prone men. Both were in semi-conscious states, moaning and trying to move around weakly. Getting their wounds exposed and the immediate areas cleaned up was a challenge in itself.

Latie served Troog and Thorec a steeped tea, heavily laced with datura to help dull the pain, and began to examine the two of them while the healers worked feverishly over Thorec and Ludeg. As soon as Thorec had got two cups of the strong tea down, she pulled what was left of his camouflage tunic off and started cleaning the deep rips in his back. Regan, Thorec's promised, was quick to help, her gentle hands soothing to the touch.

Troog sat by stoically until Etra came in with her own medicine bag and a large bowl of a steaming antiseptic solution. Troog waved her off, pointing at Jozen and Ludeg.

'Treat them first.' He signed with a distinctive grunt of authority.

Mog-ur came into the tent, he assessed the situation carefully as he looked around the room. He walked over to his area of the lodge, and gathered a few things of his own. Mog-ur centered himself in the midst of the triage area, just in front of the small central fire pit, and lifted both hands to the roof of the lodge.

When he began to sign, it was in the old, most ancient language of the Clan. The large disk with the intricate carving of the cave bear, Ursus, was facing out off his now bare chest. Three fingers of his accidental tattoo of the symbol of the 'Land of the Sun' protruded outward from the bottom of the ivory disk.

Jozen's calf was in really bad shape, and Brenan and Matera worked on it together. The muscle was mangled pretty badly, and the bleeding began anew in two places as soon as the tight bandage was cut off. He was in a state of mild delirium, and rolled his head from side to side, moaning weakly. Nezzie was there, and helped hold his arms down while they worked.

Ludeg was still out, but when Vincavec applied pressure to slow one of the worst of the bleeders, he lurched and woke up with a groan. Latie quickly had a small bowl of the datura mixture ready and brought it to him, she patiently helped him get some of it down. Tressie was as gentle as she could be while cleaning out the worst of the wound at the lower part of the thigh, but there was a lot of dirt contaminating the heavily mangled areas.

From outside the lodge, a soft, persistent drumming sound began. The hunters of the Clan and of the Others gathered in a wide semi-circle outside the front door of the lodge. Seated, they all banged the butts of their favorite spears against the flat paving stones. Brug, Mortan, and Druwez sat in the front, the rest spread out in an arc behind them. Barzec began a low pitched hum, which was picked up by many of the hunters until it became a constant drone.

Latie moved over, and with Nezzie's help, got Jozen into a slightly elevated position to get some of the datura mixture down him. Jozen got over half the bowl of medicinal tea down before he cried out and went limp, losing consciousness again when the pain became too much in massive, rolling waves. Brenan and Matera went to work fast, taking advantage of Jozen being out and unable to feel the pain that working as rapidly as they were would cause if he had been awake to feel it.

Matera paused to pull the muscle back to examine the broken bone, it looked to be set well enough, so she cleaned the area as well as she could while in there. Etra joined them and squeezed some of the leftover datura mix out of a clean rag over the lower section of the wound with one hand while holding pressure higher up on the torn muscle. Brenan dabbed at small pockets of dirt with another clean rag as he saw them. They worked their way down the leg.

Matera gently pulled thick striations of muscle back together, test fitting them as she went. Some of the torn places were mangled pretty bad, and she reconstructed them as best she could with her deft, talented fingers. It was difficult, and she and Etra had to cut away a few of the more heavily damaged areas as she went.

"Latie, I'm going to need your sewing kit." Matera said, glancing over her shoulder to see Latie setting the bowl of datura down out of the way, near the fire.

Latie nodded and came over quickly. By the time she had a thin piece of soaked sinew threaded, Matera was holding two particularly mangled pieces of muscle in place and pointed out where to start with a free finger. Latie went to work, she used small, delicate stitching to tie the muscle back together, starting at the top of the tear. She tied off each stitch as she went with small knots before going on to the next one. To Latie, it seemed to take forever to get to the bottom of the wound. Once there, she paused to see if everything was holding together, it was.

Etra pointed to a bleeder, and made a quick sign that said, 'sew it shut'. Latie looked up at Matera who nodded, and went to work. It was hard to sew with the blood covering everything she needed to see, but she was persistent and the bleeding slowed with the first stitch.

Vincavec helped to pull wounds open with one hand while holding pressure on the bad bleeder with the other. Tressie washed out each deep cat scratch and poured some of Etra's solution over it when completed. The solution slowed the bleeding, and when she got the last one done, she sat back to open up her own sewing kit. Once ready, she started on the deepest gash, the one that bled the worst.

It took a concerted effort to get the wide gash with the rest of the smaller teeth mark gashes on each side of it cleaned out and doused with the solution of Etra's. The two of them managed with a little help from Nezzie. She was no longer needed with Jozen out, and had come over to help.

Tressie stitched up the ragged muscle under the severed vein, then pulled the muscle up and began to stitch it back together. It was hard, Vincavec had to hold pressure to keep the bleeding slowed, and she had to work around his wide hand.

Vincavec finally had to hold pressure on the leg a little higher up as Tressie stemmed the bleeding steadily with the stitched up repairs of the mangled flesh. She paused to sprinkle a small amount of club moss spores over the deepest part of the wound that still oozed slowly, and clots formed gradually. With each layer of flesh she stopped to pour more of the yellowish antiseptic solution over it before going on.

The droning from outside grew louder as more and more camp members joined in. Soothing and powerful, the sounds helped to keep everyone calm and collected as they worked.

Mog-ur called upon the oldest of the spirits, beseeching them to help lend strength to the wounded, and to give the healers steady, skillful hands. His movements were eloquent and smooth, truly a master at work. The power he invoked surrounded the entire lodge.

Etra took over for Latie, and began stitching up the skin as Matera and Brenan held it in place. It was slow going, and there was a few small pieces of skin missing entirely. Matera did her best to pull the skin around and get it to line up with the nearest place to sew it all back together, but it was hard. Damaged skin will stretch only so far before tearing anew, and she went easy to pull it all back together, one place at a time. Etra's stitches were a little larger than Latie's, but just as neat. Jozen's leg began to look like a patchwork quilt.

The droning from outside the tent continued.

**********

"...the rear guards will have to have their hands free from now on." Talut was saying to the gathered crowd at the evening meal. "If we need to take more hunters with us, or just need to bring a little less back, we can't let that happen again."

"I still find it hard to believe the lions actually came after us with all we left behind." Branag said, sitting next to a very pale Ludeg.

Ludeg's entire left leg was bandaged from the top of the thigh all the way down to his ankle. The bandage that covered his shoulder was no where near as cumbersome, but it made it hard to move with ease. His face was ashen, and though he sat solidly on the log sipping tea, it looked as if he might topple over at any time. He was still experiencing the lingering effects of the datura mixture, and had lost a considerable amount of blood. His entire body hurt to one degree or another.

Troog and Thorec were in considerably better shape, sitting a little farther down the same log. Thorec's back was hurting, but he masked the pain well. Troog favored his shoulder a bit, and stretched it and flexed it out from time to time. Inca hovered over Troog, not being overly obvious, but rapidly attending his every imagined need before he could ask. Regan sat next to Thorec with her hand on his thigh, watching him closely for any signs that he might need to go lay down for a while. It had been a long, nerve wracking afternoon with the healers.

Jozen was asleep in the main lodge, under the constant supervision of Matera and Etra. He had lost a lot of blood, and both women worried that he may not make it through the night. Mog-ur stayed with him as well, continuing to call upon the spirits to assist the badly injured young man.

"We were so far away from the killing grounds that the lions may not have known what all we left." Druwez chimed in, his voice cracking ever so slightly at the end of his statement. The young hunter was about to enter puberty, and had a small patch of light colored, fuzzy hair developing on the bottom of his chin. He continued. "The wind was wrong, the lions may never have caught the scent."

"Druwez has made a good observation." Tornec added, signing as he spoke. "They came from the southwest, and the winds wouldn't have carried the smell of blood to them until we moved past them to the north. I think they were after the meat, not us in particular."

"Well, we learned three things today." Danug joined in. "The hunt strategy was a major success, but we need to watch our backs better." He paused and gave Brug a subtle nod before continuing with a wry look on his face. "And, we need to stay in a tighter group on the return trip."

Brug glowed under the recognition of praise, but his mind was in a bit of turmoil. Though hunters were injured in major hunts like this on occasion, somehow he had the lingering idea that if only he had planned it all a little better, no one would have been hurt.

Rug noticed the frustration and guilt in Brug's eyes and face. The observant Clan leader missed little, especially when it came to his young, star hunter.

'Hunt plan was good, there was no way to know all we need to know about hunting the flats without doing it first.' Rug's signs were slow and deliberate, and Tornec had no trouble keeping up as he went on.

'We hunt, we learn. Next time we know to be more careful and to protect ourselves better.'

"I agree with Rug, the hunt strategy was great, but we now know we have many things left to learn." Talut added, smiling at Brug as he spoke. "This is a new land that requires more planning for bringing home the goods. Next time we need to concentrate on taking less animals, and being able to get in and out a little quicker. I hate to leave so much meat for the predators."

Nervous laughter erupted all around him, and Talut grinned as his face got a little red. He cuddled Manut to his chest a little tighter as the boy pulled himself up into a standing position in Talut's lap. Everyone knew how much Talut hated leaving any good meat behind.

"Brug, thank you for helping us." Thorec's voice was soft, but it carried well enough to stay the laughter. "Your new weapon saved us."

It suddenly grew very quiet, the popping and snapping of the fire got louder and louder in the lull.

"That lioness had me. If you hadn't shot her when you did I was a goner." Thorec looked directly at Brug for a long moment, then lifted his eyes and looked back over to Talut as he spoke again.

"Seeing the shaft of Brug's arrow suddenly appear through that lion's head was the sweetest thing I have ever seen. We must all learn this new weapon. It is more powerful than the new spears or even the spear thrower."

Regan's eyes glistened with tears as she listened, grasping Thorec's thigh a little tighter as she felt the power of his words. She took a deep, quivering breath, it had been quite an ordeal for her helping the healers work on all the injured hunters. It was something that she would never forget, and as she learned more about what all had happened, her respect for what all the hunters had gone through grew substantially. With her free hand, she rubbed her swollen belly slowly, feeling a ripple of movement from her rather active baby.

After a long period of silence, Wymez spoke up.

"This new bow and arrow that Brug has developed is going to be the weapon of the future." His deep voice carried easily, commanding attention as it always did when the usually quiet man spoke. Jaycie sat beside him, cradling a sleeping Tramen in her lap.

"We have already learned a lot, but there is much left to work out before Brug can start teaching it to the rest of us." Wymez continued, turning to Brug as he went on.

"Brug, did the new style arrow points perform as well as you hoped?"

As soon as Tornec's translation was finished, Brug crinkled his brow in thought before signing in answer.

'Yes, new points were good. Arrows flew straight and true.' Brug hesitated before signing again. 'Need to make arrows a little longer, points were too close to bow to pull all the way back. Didn't get to use full power.'

Troog watched Brug's recitation. Though he had been a little too busy at the time to see the weapon in action, he had seen the powerful results up close. Troog had never seen a lion so heavily damaged with a single shot of any kind before, and the fact that Brug had been so far away at the time made it all seem almost impossible. Whatever the case, Troog knew he had to give Brug any help he needed to make this weapon a tool of the hunters, all the hunters. It was just too good not to.

Rug thought along the same lines as Troog, as did many of the hunters. For the hunters of the Clan though, change of any kind was hard. Almost impossible, in fact. But when a weapon this effective was even a remote possibility, they all took notice. They all threw spears now, something that was unheard of just a few years before, why not something that was even better than the throwing spear?

The conversation continued around the fire.

**********

Vincavec pulled the last heating stone from the small basket of tea. He dropped it back into the edge of the coal bed with the spoon shaped wooden tool and set it aside. Standing partially, he leaned over an scooped up the wide pelvic bone platter under his right arm and grabbed the handle of the basket. He straightened up and carried the two items back toward the main lodge.

Matera, Etra, and Latie were still taking care of Jozen, and Tressie and Deegie were in there too. None had come out to eat, so Vincavec was taking the food to them. Mog-ur hadn't left the long hut either, still using his skill with the spirits to try and help Jozen. Vincavec was sure it helped, the feelings inside the lodge as he signed the flowery motions he used invoked a calming influence like he had never felt before. All the wounded had felt this power while being worked on, and it even seemed to steady his own hands as he had worked on the injured men. Having been a mamut for as long as he had, Vincavec was certain that the spirits were ever present anyway, but the Mog-ur seemed to actually be able to bring them right down into the lodge and amongst them. It was a powerful, incredible feeling to behold.

Vincavec was certain now, he wanted to use the root of the Clan again. Just one more time. The feelings of fear and dread were being slowly replaced with the all encompassing intrigue of getting the answers he so desperately sought. It was the only way, he knew, to find out for sure what Old Mamut had been trying to tell him so long ago. So many unanswered questions.

Matera was leaning over Jozen with Tressie as he entered the lodge. They bathed his face with a damp rag soaked in cool water gently. The bandage that covered his lower leg had no visible signs of new bleeding.

Nezzie got up and took the platter from him, setting it near Jozen as she took a small piece of meat and bit into it. Vincavec set the tea basket near the platter and grabbed a few cups from a shelf against the back wall.

"How is he doing?" He asked as he turned back to face them.

"He's still weak, but he has been resting comfortably for a while now." Matera answered without looking up.

Tressie finished wiping his brow, and sat back. "I think if he makes it through the night he has a fighting chance. I worry about infection though."

"We did all we could, Tressie. It was a bad, dirty wound, and infection is always a strong possibility with such a serious injury as this." Matera said, taking a cup of tea from Vincavec as he handed one to each of them.

"Let's change the bandage twice a day, maybe that way if any corrupt areas develop we can get on them quickly." Vincavec said as he sat down beside them.

"Good idea." Tressie said, then sipped the hot tea.

A long quiet period enveloped the lodge as the women all took turns and got something to eat and drink. Mog-ur took a break too, getting a piece of meat and a cup of tea for himself.

Vincavec watched his mate as she nibbled sparingly on a deep reddish colored root, tender from being cooked in the ground oven. This is not the time, he thought to himself, but when will it ever be the right time? He grinned as he mulled this over, never, he concluded. It will never be a good time to bring up this subject around Matera, or even Latie or Brenan for that matter. So why not, he asked himself one last time. Why not now?

Taking a deep breath, Vincavec took one last sip of tea, finishing off the cup. For an odd moment, the lingering taste of the tea made him think of the last time he had returned from the spirit world. He had almost stayed gone too long, and was barely able to get back at all. It had nearly left him in the void. Chill bumps washed over his entire body in chilling waves. He took a deep breath to control a deep need to shiver.

"Mog-ur" the Mog-ur looked up at him, as did the women. 'We use root in ceremony, go back spirit world. One last time.'

Matera blanched, Latie almost choked on her mouthful of meat. Tressie dropped her cup of tea, spilling what was left onto the paving stones. Nezzie grinned, shaking her head slowly from side to side as she dropped her eyes to the grey paving stones.

Brenan shut his eyes tightly, his brow wrinkled and his wide shoulders sagged.

Mog-ur felt the excitement, but took a deep breath, managing to keep it off his face completely. After a long, awkward pause, he nodded.

'I will tell "Etra".

**********

"...what are you thinking?" Matera whispered with a hard edge to her voice. The grey streak in her long, loose dark hair seemed to almost glow in the soft firelight. Her eyes were hard, penetrating, and angry. Lumie was cradled in her lap, sleeping soundly wrapped up in a small cheetah skin.

Vincavec dropped his head as he tossed his open front tunic to the floor of the hut, how to answer her, he wondered. He wished she wasn't already angry, but deep down inside he knew that she was probably right to worry. Vincavec was tired, so tired. It had been one of the longest days of his life, mentally and physically.

"I have to know what Old Mamut knows. I have to know what happened to the camp." His voice was soft, but firm as he looked at her and went on. "It's the only way. I can't go back to the lands of the Mamutoi, but Mamut can tell me. Mamut knows."

The hut was quiet inside, and both flap windows were open and the door was tied open as well. There wasn't much of a breeze, but what there was circulated through the hut rather well. The central fire burned fairly bright, casting slow moving shadows all around, Vincavec had stoked it up fresh when they had come in from the main lodge. It was deep into the middle of the night.

Draag was off on guard duty, and Ova was asleep on the other side of the hut with little Ooga and baby Iva on each side of her on the raised bed platform. She snored lightly.

"Vinc, you told me that the last time you used that root you were almost lost in the spirit world." Matera hissed. "You said that you stayed too long and nearly didn't make it back. What am I supposed to do if something bad happens to you?"

Vincavec took a deep breath as he sat pulled his short leggings off. They were dirty and stiff with dried blood. He tossed them on top of the tunic, and leaned back to stretched his sore back before sitting down on the edge of the bed platform. When he looked at Matera, he could see the anger and worry in her sparkling eyes. She was so very beautiful, he thought. Vincavec absolutely loved the very sight of her.

"You're right, the first time I used the root I almost got in trouble. Bad trouble." He tried to look confident as he continued giving her his cocky, confident grin accented with his sparkling, usually irresistible eyes. Matera tightened her own eyes into narrow slits, she saw through him rather easily, it seemed. Vincavec continued anyway, using his most soothing voice.

"But I have been there once, so I should be able to control it better this time. I should be able to feel the effects of the root better now, I'll understand it all better. I'll know when the time is right to return, not like last time. Understand, Matera, that I had to do things last time that I don't have to do now. It's information I seek now, there are no tasks I have to perform, no other places I have to go." Vincavec paused, gathering his wits a bit before going on.

"I'm tired of all the nightmares, I have to know if we did the right thing by not going back." A tear welled up as his grin faded. "I have to know if we could have saved the Cave Bear Camp, I have to know if they survived. I just have to."

A fat tear rolled down his tattooed cheek, and he took a deep, slightly quivering breath before whispering again.

"It's the only way for me to find out, I—I have to know."

"Then I'm going too." She shot back, her whisper had a decided edge to it. Matera was more than a little angry, and it came out through her voice easily.

"No." Vincavec said aloud with a firm voice, then looked up at his mate with tears rolling down each cheek, causing small sparkling trails to appear on his face in the glimmering firelight.

"No, you can't go." His voice cracked as he lowered it back to a whisper. "If I get in trouble, you have to be here to call me back. If I get lost, I should still be able to hear your voice and follow it home. Besides, if something does happen to me, you have to be here for Lumie."

Matera glanced down at the sleeping baby in her lap, and a tear rolled off her chin and hit Lumie in the forehead. Lumie didn't notice. She hugged the child softly, lowering her head.

"I'll be fine, I promise." Vincavec whispered. "I can do this."

"If anything bad happens, I will never forgive you. Ever."

Matera's soft words hung in the quiet hut. When she lifted her head, the look on her face gave Vincavec no doubt that she meant it. Every word of it.


	40. Chapter 27 Part 3

**Chapter Twenty Seven**

_The Waterfall Camp_

**Part Three**

Brenan ran his hands over the lower part of the bandage, the leg was starting to swell. He felt the tightness, and decided that he would give it a little longer before he loosened the wrap, it might not get any worse, he reasoned. If Brenan could leave it alone, the bandage would help to keep the swelling down, if it didn't get too tight and cut off the circulation in the leg.

He reached for the tea cup beside him, and was disappointed when he found it empty. Brenan sighed, but before he could get up to refill the cup, Latie was there with the tea basket. He was startled by her sudden appearance, he hadn't heard her approach having been so deep in thought about Jozen's leg.

Latie took the cup from him and dipped it full of steaming, chamomile based tea. She sat beside him and put her hand on his thigh affectionately.

"How's he doing?" Latie asked softly.

Brenan sipped the tea, burning his lips by taking too big a first sip. He made a sour face, then took a much smaller drink.

"It's hard to tell. The leg is trying to swell up." Brenan said in a hoarse whisper. "If the bandage gets too tight I'll have to re-wrap it to let the pressure ease, but if I do that the stitches might tear loose."

Latie listened with interest. She was no healer per se, but she had assisted her mate and other healers often enough to be much more knowledgeable than most. Latie knew that Jozen was badly injured, but she also knew that Brenan was an accomplished healer, as were Matera, Tressie, Etra, and Vincavec. They had all worked on Jozen, and if they couldn't help him he was probably beyond help. She observed Jozen's face, he slept peacefully with no hint of discomfort, at least for now.

Brenan wiped the sheen of sweat off his brow, it was a little hot in the lodge, especially this close to the central fire. The lodge was quiet except for Rug's snoring. The curtains were left open, as they usually were and the sounds carried easily across the lodge. The fire flickered, the flames wandering in the soft, erratic breeze that blew through the open door and window flaps.

"I think we got the leg repaired well enough, but the wound was so dirty that I worry about infection setting in." Brenan said softly and took another drink of the tea. His sweat streaked face showed his weariness, he had gone on the hunt well before first light and hadn't stopped to rest since.

"If it does, can't you treat it?" She asked.

"Yes, but I worry about infection setting in deep within the muscle where it would be almost impossible to get to." Brenan answered with a worried look. "If it does, the only way to get at it is to cut the leg back open. I don't want to do that, it is just entirely too dangerous."

Latie understood, she had seen what all the healers had done to try and save Aba when her own injured leg had a deep muscle bleeder. Some things were just too hard to do, even for the most experienced healers.

It got quiet for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Latie thought about the long afternoon, she was proud of her mate and the other healers, they had all been so talented and diligent. Brenan finished off the tea, and reached over and dipped himself another cup.

"I don't want to go back there." Latie whispered, breaking the silence.

Brenan blanched, he knew exactly what she was referring to. He didn't want to even think about it, much less talk about it, but he knew he had to.

"You don't have to go."

"Are you going?"

Brenan took a deep breath before speaking softly a word . "Yes."

"Then I'm going with you."

"No."

"I have to." Latie's voice had an edge of finality to it.

"Why?" Brenan looked into her beautiful eyes, a confused look on his weary face. "I don't want you to go."

"Remember what Mamut said?"

Brenan frowned, he remembered alright, he remembered everything Old Mamut had ever told him. Brenan could almost hear Old Mamut's voice in his head as he thought back to every word. 'Never go back there alone, or without good reason.'

"I remember, but shouldn't you stay here with Bralut?"

"I can't. If you go, I go."

Brenan wanted to argue with his mate, but knew it would do no good. She was as hard headed as Talut, and just as fiercely determined when her mind was made up. Brenan frowned, frustrated. It was one of the most endearing character traits Latie possessed, one of the many reasons Brenan had fallen so deeply in love with her. It was dangerous, but Latie was more than brave, even when she might not should be.

Old Mamut's words echoed through Brenan's head again, and he knew there was no point in arguing with either of them. 'Take care of my daughter, Brenan, and the son she will give you...'

It wasn't easy, but Brenan resigned himself to the fact that he would be going back to the world of the spirits, and he was not going without his mate. A single tear fell.

"All right, but I really don't want you to go." Brenan whispered, a definite tone of resignation in his voice.

**********

From the other side of the main lodge, Mog-ur lay quietly awake in his bed. Wide awake, he could hear the soft conversation between Brenan and Latie, but could understand little if anything of what was being said. The tones of their voices told him a lot, and he knew that the proposed trip with the sacred root was the topic of their quiet, emotional discussion.

Mog-ur could have felt a little guilty about their angst, but he was much too excited to even consider that right now. He had tried to go deep into his memories a little while ago to gather all the information on the root he could. For the first time in his life though, he was unable to concentrate hard enough to explore the deep memories of his ancestors. This gave him pause for a while, but he knew that the level of excitement he felt was most likely the culprit.

Besides, Mog-ur reasoned, I have visited every memory I know of many times before on the subject. What more is there to learn without going there and experiencing it all for myself, he asked himself again. It mattered though, and he knew it, he would need all his knowledge and all his wits in this unknown place. It mattered very much indeed.

The ceiling of the lodge danced with flickering light above him, and he watched the moving shadows absently.

Mog-ur knew he needed rest, and he closed his eyes again and tried to clear his mind enough so he could sleep. Rug's soft snoring usually lulled him to sleep all by itself, but not now, not tonight. Tonight it was just something else to distract him and keep him awake, he thought to himself. But he knew that wasn't the whole truth, Mog-ur was simply too excited about the possibility of using this magical, dangerous root.

An owl hooted from somewhere nearby, and Mog-ur thought about wolves. Grey wolves in particular, the animals that meant so much to him. His totem animal. If he ever missed their mournful songs it was tonight.

Ursus, he thought, am I doing the right thing?

**********

Branag spent the early morning working on crutches for Jozen and Ludeg. He and Salen went out to the small grove of trees just after first light, just after Brug and Mortan had left camp with Druwez for their morning hunting trip. This was the place where Brug had cut a limb for his latest bow, and they had cut off four of the extremely hard limbs to make the crutches from. It was a little hard to find just the right limbs to cut, they had to be long and straight and have a crook at one end at a decent angle. Salen had gotten on Branag's shoulders to reach the last limb, and that seemed to take forever, he thought with a grin.

From what he had been told, Jozen probably wouldn't need a crutch for a while, but Branag figured it was as just easy to make two sets as it was to make one. Ludeg was probably capable of walking with the aid of a crutch, at least he would be soon if he wasn't yet.

Salen used a flint wedge as a scraper and pulled it slowly down a portion of the limb laying across his lap. Small pieces of dark colored bark fell away with each controlled stroke.

Branag used his hand axe to chip the end of the stick, straightening up the pointed tip and blunting it off. He used small strokes, being careful to take small amounts of the hard wood with each hit of the sharp axe. This type of wood was extremely hard, and Branag had damaged axes before by using too much force.

The two of them worked through the morning as the camp came to life all around them. It rapidly became a busy place, there was a feast and a huge celebration to get prepared for.

Inca and Nezzie worked over the ground ovens, pulling out huge slabs of mostly cooked meat. They rebuilt the coal beds by adding fresh fuel and letting it burn down again before replacing the wrapped meats.

Silvie and Mamie went out for a vegetable gathering excursion. Frebec and Crisavec went with them as guards and helpers. Tessie and Tricie joined the crew, and they headed out toward the western part of the nearby creek where the onions and mushrooms were usually plentiful.

Latie and Matera got together and planned out some of the ceremonial particulars with Tulie and Marsie. Vincavec helped a little, but soon found that his presence was more of a hindrance than a help. He got shooed away after a few not so well timed suggestions.

Talut went out with a good sized group to harvest oats from a stand near the spear throwing practice grounds. The far end of the clearing was rife with oats and even some smaller stands of wheat. It was a place the women rarely went alone because of the past threat of dholes, but that threat had been substantially lessened since the successful dhole hunts.

Deegie and Silvie helped the women that were to be joined. Matrimonial dresses were cleaned up and prepared, and the proceedings were talked out and discussed at length. It was a giddy hut, Jaycie seemed to possibly be the happiest of the group. Little Tonie helping to calm her excited mother however she could. Regan's dress had to be abandon due to her over sized, very pregnant belly. A matching set of tunic and leggings were found and offered from Deegie and they fit well enough with the tunic tied open in the front.

**********

Late in the morning, Brug and the young hunters returned with seven fat guineas. Inca was happy with the additional meat, and Ova took the task of getting them ready to put on the spit. Brug had killed one of them with his bow, but had missed the small elusive targets twice and had damaged one of his prized arrows.

Jozen's leg didn't swell up to the point where Brenan felt he had to re-wrap it, and he was actually feeling a lot better as the day wore on. The pain killers he had been given worked well enough, though his mind wandered and he often had odd dreams when he napped.

Ludeg was doing much better than expected, though sore, he refused to stay inside the main lodge for very long. It was just too hard for him to be cooped up, and Brenan and Branag helped him out and set him up in a fur padded place in the shade. He relaxed, leaning back on the cushions of furs and watched the activities going on all around. Branag and Salen moved their work next to him, and Ludeg even helped, scraping the crutch pieces with them.

Thorec and Troog were both doing well, and even helped out with some of the less strenuous tasks. Thorec's back was still pretty sore, and the stitches limited his movements a lot, but he was glad to be of some help. The pain numbing medicinal teas that the healers prepared for them worked well.

Mog-ur went out to his bench at the edge of the cliff. He sat quietly in the shade and used every bit of his mental prowess to go into a deep meditation. This time, he was able to visit all the different memories concerning the sacred root. He took his time, examining and studying every scrap of information he encountered.

**********

Just after mid day, most of them were reassembled back at the camp. A light meal was set up in a buffet style, but everyone ate sparingly. Except for Talut and Danug, of course. Even they ate considerably less than usual though, thinking of the huge feast later.

Talut and Danug used the new heavy tools to pound the grain after Ranec and a few others had knocked the seeds free of the shafts with hand held flint tools. As usual, the two men made a bit of a good natured competition out of the job.

**********

The smells of food began to appear from everywhere.

Bananas roasting at the edge of the main fire on a flat rock, grain cakes cooking on a rock next to them. Two buffalo thighs dripping fat from one spit, fat guineas from the other. Stew simmering from two separate hanging skins, and baskets of tea all around the perimeter of the fire.

The scents were both tempting and agonizing.

**********

The camp preparations continued all throughout the hot afternoon. The succulent smells growing stronger and stronger as the sun slowly made its way across the cloudless, clear blue sky.

**********

Mog-ur returned to camp late in the afternoon. He got a small platter of fruit, mostly grapes and bananas, but ate less than half of it while managing to drink two cups of soothing tea. He observed all the busy people around him, and looked up often to gauge the descent of the sun. Though usually a patient man, he found it hard to wait until the proper time to get Etra's attention. He managed, but it was difficult.

Etra was walking by with a handful of freshly cut strips of soft, de-haired rabbit skins.

"Etra."

She jumped at the Mog-ur's voice, her face paling considerably. Etra turned and took the few steps it took to get over to him. She dropped gracefully to her knees, bowing her head at his feet. Mog-ur tapped her on the shoulder, and looked into her deep brown, frightened eyes with a surprisingly gentle look on her face.

'You need to prepare yourself with the cleansing ritual soon, don't forget anything, it is all very important.' He signed.

"Lat-tee?" She said with a questioning look on her face.

Mog-ur simply nodded.

Etra bowed her head again, then slowly stood up and walked away. Her knees felt weak, and a churning sensation developed in her lower belly as she walked slowly back to the main lodge.

Mog-ur felt the excitement ripple through his body. He took a deep breath and slowly forced his hands to stop quivering with power of his mind. Mog-ur watched Etra walk away, he noticed the angst in her steps.

It wasn't long before Etra and Latie walked out of the main lodge together, both carrying de-haired skins over their arms and spare clothing. Neither of them looked overly happy as they walked over to Brug who sat in the shade of one of the roofed structures. He worked on arrow shafts along side several other men all working on hunting weapons, but dropped what he was doing when Etra signed for him.

Brug strung his bow and slipped on his twin scabbards, then led the two women down the path that led to the place in the creek usually used for bathing.

**********

A hush fell over the assembly as the sun slowly slipped the rest of the way out of sight. The western sky glowed with an array of pastel oranges and pinks, then gradually began to dissipate, the colors slowly fading. A pair of peacocks sang back and forth to each other from the tops of two tall trees some distance back toward the cliff. Their crying, mournful songs were eerie sounding, and the high pitches carried easily.

The seating logs had been rearranged and now formed a huge, three layer deep semi-circle on the south side facing back toward the main fire and the huts. From the seating logs, the twin roofed work areas flanked the fire on each side, one to the left one to the right. All three perimeter fires were fully stoked and burned brightly, but the main fire even more so. A light breeze from the south twisted and fanned the tall flames and curled the smoke into fingers of a single, graceful dance into the skies from all four of the fires.

A low murmur was constant from the gathered crowd, the noise level continuously changed slightly, up then down. Within the three rows, it was elbow to elbow from one line of logs to the next. Darkness fell quickly with the sunset, and the brightness of the fires grew accordingly. Long shadows slowly encroached, then seemingly took their own sweet time as they smothered the last remaining sunlight altogether. The anticipation level increased steadily as darkness slowly fell.

A sudden hush fell over the camp as the Mog-ur walked out of the main lodge and slowly approached. He took his time, his eyes fixed toward something far in the distance well over the heads of the crowd, his face never wavered. To the crowd it seemed like it took him forever to get into place at front of the predominant glow at the front edge of the wide fire pit. The way the bold expanse of flickering light danced behind him made him appear to glow all around the edges of his body. His unruly hair almost looked to be on fire. Mog-ur wore short leggings, his ivory plaque centered on his broad, hairy chest, but nothing else.

Mog-ur planted his feet firmly, then stared out over the crowd with a fixed, stern look on his rugged face. He held this pose for a long time, moving nothing but his eyes as he lowered them slowly. Panning over the anxious faces one by one, his hard stare intimidated most of the camp, especially the young children.

In a movement of pure grace, he slowly lifted his arms, stretching them out then raising them ever so slowly to the skies. Opening his fingers as he lifted his hands, it looked like he was grabbing a handful of air as they rose. His head tilted back slowly and the ivory plaque hanging over the center of his chest stuck out prominently from the bright burning perimeter fire from the southeast. The stylized carving of Ursus was impossible to ignore, and overtly powerful looking.

The smooth, elaborate motions and intricate signs began slowly. Mog-ur called down the old spirits first, beckoning them with the fluid, most ancient language of the Clan. His old body twisted and turned with a grace that absolutely defied his advancing age, his hands and arms flawlessly agile and distinct in his perfection of the old language.

The assembly was mesmerized. No one looked anywhere but at the powerful performance of the old holy man, and he held their rapt attention with the fluid ease of the powerful, respected Mog-ur that he was.

Appearing as if they slowly came out of thin air, Latie was suddenly on the left side of the Mog-ur about eight steps away, while Vincavec was the same distance off to his right. Latie wore her light orange matrimonial outfit, while Vincavec wore a light tan tunic and matching leggings. Both faced Mog-ur with their hands holding speaking staffs firmly planted on the ground in front of them with both hands.

With a flowing motion, Mog-ur swung his arms slowly back to the center of his body. His hands came together forming a triangle in front of his belly, each fingertip touching its opposite from the opposing hand. Lifting and twisting his pointed fingers slowly up into position, he finally stopped with them pointing up toward the white plaque creating a powerful bit of imagery. Mog-ur slowly dropped his head until his chin rested just above the center of the top of his chest and closed his eyes. Latie and Vincavec pounded the speaking staffs onto the paving stones with a dull 'thump', three times.

With practiced precision, the heavy thumps pounded out a slow, slightly syncopated rhythm. On the fifth repetition, the two mamuts took a single step toward each other. One step at a time, three pounded beats apart, they approached the Mog-ur.

A babies cry rang out, breaking the haunting silence briefly. Fralie quickly put Aylie to the breast.

Latie and Vincavec stopped a step short of the Mog-ur, a half step closer to the crowd. The triangle the three of them made as they stood in total silence was a bit awe inspiring, the formation exuded spiritual power. The mamuts pounded the staffs twice more, and Mog-ur slowly lifted his head and opened his eyes to gaze stoically out over the crowd, focusing on no one, but seemingly staring into the eyes of everyone individually.

Latie and Vincavec pounded the staffs one last time, and turned to face the crowd directly as well.

The all encompassing silence hung heavily.

Tornec walked out and stood off just to the left of Latie, turning to face the crowd.

Mog-ur began to sign, Tornec interpreting in a monotone, soft but deep voice that carried easily.

'This gathering is made to honor Ursus and Mut, who watch over us and protect us.' He signed slowly, in the old language, using every bit of his body to inflect every single important nuance.

He lifted his eyes to the sky and continued. 'Join with us, great spirits of old. You are the spirits who originally dwelt in this ancient land. Come and dwell here again, watch over us and protect us in this, our new home. Live here with us, alongside mighty Ursus and all knowing Mut, as you once did so long ago here in this sacred place, this Land of the Sun. This is the home of our oldest ancestors, this is now the home of our future. This we beseech you.'

Mog-ur stepped up to Vincavec and took the staff from him as the two men exchanged places. Vincavec looked out over the crowd, holding the silence and using it to build the anticipation even higher, and then higher still. The crowd was held tightly in rapt attention.

"Tonight we dedicate a new home, in a new land. Tonight we formally become one camp, one home, one people." The power in his voice carried easily, and he commanded their total attention as easily as he breathed. Vincavec was completely in his element, and he relished it, speaking slowly and with emphasis. His sparkling, mischievous eyes roamed over the crowd, exciting them, enticing them.

"We have traveled far. We have lost many loved ones both before our journey began, and even more along the way. As a people, we have endured more hardships and angst than we could have possibly expected, but through it all we have survived, grown, and prospered." Vincavec paused to allow the power of his words to sink in, and to allow Tornec to keep up.

"We have seen man at his worst, hateful and aggressive, heartless and cruel. We have seen man at his best, resourceful and clever, kind and protective. Through it all we have had to put aside the differences in our backgrounds and customs, we have done this selflessly for the purpose of survival. With this, the old ways have grown and expanded and become the new. The new ways we live by give us a new identity, a new, more inclusive way of life. A way of life that has allowed us to prosper and grow exponentially. Couples have mated, children have been born, and new homes have been built. We have become a new strong, productive people."

Vincavec and Latie exchanged places, Vincavec taking the speaking staff from her and fixing it powerfully in front of his legs.

Latie lifted her head, her bright eyes sparkling as she began.

"With these new ways, in this new land, we are a people different from any we have known or heard of before. We come from different tribes, different backgrounds, different peoples, yet here in the Land of the Sun, we have become one. One people, one camp, one Clan. One family.

"We honor Ursus, we honor Mut, we live as they have taught us. We respect the old ways, we respect the old protective spirits. These things we will always do.

"Tonight, we establish ourselves as a new people. Tonight we become one, formally, and with due ceremony before Ursus and Mut, the old spirits and the new."

Latie paused and for a brief instant, caught the look of love and pride from Brenan with Bralut in his lap. She absolutely glowed as she continued.

"We are now, and forever more to be known as the Waterfall Camp, of the Clan of the People of the Sun. May the spirits bless and guide us."

A heavy silence hung with the completion of her proclamation. Talut's loud growling belly was the only sound.

Simultaneously, Talut and Branag began clapping their hands on their thighs. It was picked up gradually, and soon the entire camp clapped along rhythmically together. As one.

Mog-ur, Vincavec, and Latie waited until the din began to wane, then turned together walked back to the pole shelter to the left of the fire.

Matera went to the forefront from the right side shelter. She looked regal in her fine, borrowed outfit and the odd streak of grey in her hair absolutely glowed in the firelight. Matera was a strikingly beautiful, powerful looking woman. Her gaze wandered slowly over the assembly, she held them with the power of her look. Matera raised her arms for quiet, and began speaking when the noise subsided.

"Tonight, we will witness the joining of men and women..."

**********

The matrimonial ceremonies went smoothly. Tears and loud exclamations of approval were offset with hugs and back slapping acceptances. It was a joyous occasion and a beautiful ceremony.

Jozen used his new crutches to stand beside his promised, Stolie, in the first joining. Full of pain numbing medicinal teas, he was firm with his vows and smiled through the paid admirably. Jozen was able to make his way back to the seating logs on his own at its completion, with a very happy, heavily blessed new mate beside him, supporting him by the arm with pride.

Thorec and Regan were joined next, and loud clapping erupted at the announcement of the obvious fact that Regan too was blessed. Thorec had a content, proud look on his face as he stood stiffly beside Regan, but tears slid down his cheeks as the look of love and devotion grew stronger with each vow. Regan absolutely glowed through the whole proceeding.

Danug and Tressie were next, Talut and Branag roared while Nezzie and Deegie cried. Tressie's belly showed the initial signs of pregnancy with her proudly open front tunic and swollen breasts exposed. Danug's face glowed bright red throughout, but his grin was constant, and very broad. His voice cracked once during his vows, but a smile from Tressie gave him a surge of strength and he finished with a flourish.

The biggest single roar of the ceremony rang out when Wymez and Jaycie took their places at the front with Tonie and Tramen flanking them. Wymez had a constant stream of tears flowing down his cheeks, but the smile plastered across his face belied any possible emotion but pure joy. Jaycie gazed deep into his eyes, seeing her new mate through a constant sparkle of happy tears, she had never looked so stunning to Wymez, aver. The contentment he felt was unrivaled in his memories, and the hopes of his own future were as bright as he had ever known.

Ranec cried like a baby as they repeated their vows, his white teeth shining out from his extremely happy, dark skinned face. Tricie clutched his arm, and Ralev sat slightly squirming, wiping the fat tears off his shoulders as they fell while sitting in Ranec's lap.

At the conclusion of the matrimonial proceedings, Talut walked boldly up to the fire and turned to face this newly pronounced people. His people. The immense pride he felt showed, and his grin was as infectious as his sparkling eyes.

No camp leader or leaders were announced, no ranks or status were inferred. This was a new approach, a new day. A new, less stringent way of life. All the former leaders had met, and a basic council system was now in place. Talut and Rug held equal ranks as camp leaders, and Vincavec and Latie were the designated spiritual leaders, along with Mog-ur. The healers were without rank, but had all agreed to work together as they had ever since the Clan and the Mamutoi had been rejoined. No personal conflicts had arisen during the meeting, and as well as they all got along, none were expected. Brug was re-affirmed as the main hunt leader, but would work together with the rest of the hunters to plan and execute any hunts on the flats.

As a leader, Talut knew the next proclamation was his to make. He took a deep breath, eying this crowd of people he loved as much as life itself. When he finally spoke, his big, booming voice was as clear as a lions roar, and possibly just as simple.

"Let's eat!"

**********

The buffet lines opened, and the torturous smells of the entire day were finally welcomed. The crowd enveloped the food lines almost nonchalantly, still reveling in the warm glows of the matrimonial ceremonies. The newly joined women filled platters for their families and new mates first, then the crowd surged to fend for themselves. There was more food than a camp twice this size could have possibly eaten in one try.

Talut and Danug elbowed each other at the front of the line, and everyone else gave them room while they watched them work. Each man piled more on a platter than it could possibly hold, but neither of them spilled so much as a single grape.

The meat platters were piled high, steam rising. Sliced breast of guinea, whole legs crisped from the spit. Thin strips of buffalo off the spit, thick roasts of the same from the ground ovens that fell apart when cut. Two stews, thick with meats, grains, and vegetables. Grain cakes of four different varieties, some thick and chewy, some thin and crisp. Fruit was piled high on three platters, blackberries and strawberries on one. Grapes on another. Crisp browned and raw, yellow bananas on the last.

There were two fat, bulging wine skins and two more of a sweet, tart bouza next to them on a flat rock set up as a table on three smaller rocks. Four tea baskets were interspersed among the skins.

For as many people eating as there were, the noise level never went down too much. Happy conversations took place all over the sprawling camp as small groups settled down together to eat. Many others walked around, holding their platters and eating wherever they stopped to visit. It was a happy gathering, and as the wine and bouza skins grew lighter, got even happier.

Etra and Latie fed their babies together near the men of their families under the west side work area. Rug had a rather full platter, but Brenan's was sparsely filled. Vincavec and Matera soon joined them, Matera had Lumie at her breast and a cup of tea. Vincavec carried her platter, but had none for himself. Mog-ur sat with Ooga on his lap, she ate from a platter of mostly fruit. She fed Mog-ur a grape or two every now and then, but it was all he ate.

Bralut hit the ground running as soon as he had his fill of milk, and Deegie watched after him as he and Brydag wound their way through the legs of the crowd. It looked to be some kind of game they played, but if it were, the rules changed as fast as the rambunctious boys made them up. It wasn't long before Manut joined in with them, and Rugie helped to keep an eye on them.

The stars appeared, and before long the sky was glistening with their incredible numbers. The moon was a fat wedge of a crescent shape, bright and glowing. The cool breezes were soft and occasionally gusty.

**********

Barzec and Draag began the pounding rhythms at the south side of the main fire by pounding thick, blunt ends of short wooden posts against the paving stones. Soon, their ranks swelled with additional musicians and before long there were seven men pounding out the strange, asymmetrical rhythms. Barzec and Rymar began to sing, they used no real words, but accented each other well in their undulating song.

Talut dragged Nezzie out for the first dance, high stepping with swinging, interlocked arms. They circled the fire with their slightly erratic, but lively steps, soon joined by Wymez and Jaycie's smoother, slower dance.

In no time, additional dancers circled the fire, two rings deep. As the wine and bouza skins were worked over more extensively, more and more dancers joined in. A few couples slipped off to a hut for a brief rendevous, but no one stayed secluded for long.

As the night wore on, more and more children ran out of energy and fell asleep. The infants and the youngest were first, but as it got later, the older children grew sleepy too. The children were all taken to the main lodge that had been prepared for them, and Rugie, Mamie, and Fralie stayed with them. The entire center of the lodge was carpeted with sleeping furs, and the kids were laid out as they were brought in. Before long, they covered a good sized section in the center of the wide pallet.

**********

The dancing continued, but their were less and less people out there at the same time now. They seemed to be dancing in spurts now, and there was considerably less clothing in evidence as the night wore on.

The gather at the table of wine, bouza, and tea stayed pretty constant. The wine was almost gone, and two of the tea baskets were completely empty. The last skin of bouza was definitely on its last leg as well.

A few people looked to be nodding off. Some simply stretching out wherever they were, others using the seating logs to lean against. Others cuddled up to doze off peacefully on the warm paving stones.

The festivities continued, but at a slower pace.

**********

Mog-ur looked up at the sky for the longest time. He closed his eyes and reached out with his mind, searching for the ancient spirits. The breeze felt cool on his face, the flickering firelight shown through his closed eyelids in a subtle dance of light. A warmth slowly enveloped him, and the tingling in his skin could only be of the spirits of old. He took a deep breath, it was time.

Brenan cringed. He knew the signs, and when Mog-ur told Etra and Latie it was time, he felt the chill bumps come over him in waves. Latie's sparkling eyes showed her obvious distress, but she squared her jaw and stood up without hesitation. Brenan could think of nothing constructive to say to her as the two women walked away toward the hut normally shared by Vincavec and Draag and their families, but was empty now and waiting for them.

Matera didn't understand the signs, but she gave Vincavec a stern look and carried a soundly sleeping Lumie off to the main lodge as soon as the two women were gone. Vincavec squinted his eyes slightly, but said nothing as she walked away.

Mog-ur nodded to Brenan and Vincavec, then motioned for them to follow as he walked out from under the roof and over to the lodge normally shared by Wymez and his new family and Rymar. He walked slowly and deliberately, but for some reason, Brenan and Vincavec both appeared to have a hard time keeping up with him.

**********

Talut poured a cup of bouza, then carefully put the stopper back in place. His dexterity was definitely hampered, and Talut's tall body swayed slightly as he straightened up. It was not his first cup of bouza. He lifted the cup to his lips, but froze just before it made contact with his lips. Lowering the cup slowly, Talut blinked his eyes, to his dismay the vision before him did not disappear. He was dimly aware that the drumming and singing had slowed to a stop, but wasn't too sure when it had. The sight before him sobered him up considerably.

Wymez' face went pale, then he finally tore his eyes away and looked over at Draag beside him. The man of the Clan nodded to him before taking a deep breath and beginning a new rhythm. He began slowly, beating out a new, odd, somewhat choppy rhythm. Wymez and Rymar waited, listening and memorizing. After Draag began to repeat himself, they joined in, echoing Draag's rhythms a full beat behind him, softly. The resulting new music was haunting and strange compared to the smoother rhythms of before. Eerie and asymmetrical. Dark sounding music. Ominous feeling. It made the hair stand up on many folks arms and the backs of their necks as they listened.

Danug and Tressie, the only ones left dancing at the moment, stopped swaying together at the change in the music. Many others nearby stopped what they were doing and looked toward the musicians like Danug did over Tressie's shoulder. Danug saw the look in Talut's eyes, and followed his line of vision. He then stopped moving all together, slowly turning Tressie so she could see as well. Danug's red face went suddenly pale.

Mog-ur walked slowly toward the roofed structure to the left of the main fire. He was flanked by Vincavec and Brenan on his left, and Etra and Latie on his right. All were a half step behind him. Their nude bodies were painted in two colors, black and stark white. Mog-ur wore his ivory plaque, and it hung suspended on his hairy chest in a circular field of black. The stylized Ursus almost glowed against the dark background in the shimmering firelight.

A hush fell over the camp, and the music sounded just a little bit louder and more distinct in the newfound quiet. An owl hooted from the woods to the northwest, soft at first, then again a little louder.

The five stopped just short of the support poles, and a sudden bright spark flashed from the center of the small structure.

Brug leaned down and blew on the glowing spark, and a small flame came to life. He slowly worked the flame into a small fire set on top of the paving stones, ringed with fist sized rocks. Brug carefully stoked the fire up until the flames were as high as his knees. He sat back on his heels and glanced up at Mog-ur who gave him a subtle nod then Brug nodded back solemnly before slowly backing away.

The silence slowly became a low murmur as people from all around realized what was happening. A few made their way slowly toward the small work shelter.

As the new light shined brightly on them, the various patterns of the body paint from one to the next stood out. Mog-ur's face was entirely white, as were everyone else's, everyone but Etra. In fact, Etra's body paint was done exactly the opposite in every way from the other four.

Etra's face, arms, and legs were all blacked out. Her entire torso was white except for black circles over each nipple and an oval over her pubis. From a distance, she appeared to be a walking, almost glowing torso. She held a wide, fairly shallow carved wooden bowl, plain with absolutely no adornment of any kind level at her navel.

The others had white everywhere Etra had black, but the patterns of black circles and ovals varied between them all. It made for a really spooky looking group.

Mog-ur took two steps up under the roof, and slid gracefully into a sitting position just a step back from the edge of the heat from the fire. Latie sat next to him with Etra settling in beside her while Vincavec and Brenan filled out the semi-circle before the flames to his other side. Mog-ur looked over to Draag and nodded, Draag slowed the rhythm gradually, then changed it all together. This time, the beat sounded a little deeper pitched, and Wymez joined him. When Rymar picked up and joined in with the higher pitched descant, he did it a full beat in echo. The music sounded somehow almost complete.

Slowly, other people made their way over. They spread out behind the musicians and sat down to watch. A large semi-circle of spectators grew gradually. It wasn't long before the crowd was quite sizable, all were adults and adolescents, all were quiet and respectful.

Troog then began a low, rumbling growl from just behind Draag. His deep voice had a chanting feel to it and he kept up with the rhythm on the echo beat. Frebec then joined in a full octave higher than Troog, his wordless song undulating with a heavy vibrato.

Mog-ur nodded to Etra, and she slowly pulled a folded pouch out from under the wooden bowl now resting in her cross legged lap. Her eyes were wide with anticipation—and fear. Her hands were steady, but her fingers quivered as she opened the pouch and pulled three gnarly roots from the bag.

Latie handed Etra a small cup of water. Etra sipped the water, then managed to swallow with a little difficulty, then lifted the first root to her mouth. The folded pouch she set on the ground beside her, the other two roots on top.

Vincavec watched every move Etra made. He was suddenly distracted by a familiar movement from just off to his right and he glanced over and saw Matera as she was sitting down facing him from just outside the poles. She was between the musicians and him. When he looked into his mate's eyes, he saw only concern, and support. The knot in his stomach eased slightly, and though his face did not give him away, he was relieved more than he could say. Absently, he wondered where Lumie was.

From the edge of the firelight, Nezzie and Tressie came out and sat down on either side of Matera. Matera felt the soothing power of both her friends as they sat close enough to make light contact with the bare skin of her upper arms. They stayed close, all enjoying the power of touch.

The muscles of Etra's jaws flexed over and over, the veins growing taught and poking out from her cheeks and temples much heavier than normal. She stopped chewing for a moment as she allowed the musty tasting, fibrous root to soak up moisture from her mouth. Etra could never remember her mouth feeling so dry, so ravaged inside. She started chewing again. The saliva in her mouth finally increased and she leaned over and spat into the bowl that had a shallow amount of water covering the bottom of the bowl.

Etra sat up straight and began to chew again.

**********

Latie dipped her finger in the milky light yellow and grey looking solution, stirring it around slowly. The soft colors seemed to wrap around each other for a while before merging together gradually. She closed her eyes for a moment, thinking back, back to both of the times she had used the root in the past. Remembering everything she could about the two experiences, the color of the liquid, the smells, the consistencies. Latie's brow wrinkled in concentration, and she brought her finger to her mouth, tasting the ancient mixture.

The haunting music continued in front of them.

Etra was still chewing the last root, and the potion was getting close. She breathed in deep through her slightly flared nostrils and leaned forward again to spit into the bowl.

Mog-ur's heart was beating too fast, he knew it and it was all he could do to control it. He breathed deeply, concentrated, and did his best to slow it down. Not since waking up so long ago in the middle of the night with a raging fever had he felt himself so out of control with his own body. It was unnerving, and his hands trembled slightly in his lap. He took another deep breath, and forced his hands to still as he watched every move Latie and Etra made. Slowly, ever so slowly he felt his heart rate diminish gradually.

Vincavec watched with interest as the two women prepared the solution. The mamut in him soaked up every move, every nuance of how they worked and the slow progress they made in developing the powerful potion. How it changed whenever Etra added to it, how it looked as Latie stirred it up. Everything. Vincavec was surprisingly calm, his anticipation level was definitely high, but he was so busy observing the women it was secondary—at least for now.

Brenan watched it all from a slightly different perspective. It wasn't excitement or anticipation he felt. It wasn't even fear that dominated his feelings, it was just pure and simple dread. Brenan's only real fear was for his mate, but he knew that Latie was stronger and more experienced with anything metaphysical than he was anyway. He just didn't want to go back there, really didn't want to go at all. Ever.

I have to go, he chastised himself for his feelings, I have to go if Latie goes. Mamut said so, so that's that.

**********

Matera winced when Etra handed the bowl to Latie and stood up. She bowed slightly and moved gracefully away from the shelter and walked slowly over to the trio of women sitting facing the four. It was time, Matera clinched her eyes shut and sent out a strong thought to Mut for Her protection.

Etra took Nezzie's hand as she sat down next to her. Nezzie reached over and took Matera's hand, as Tressie took her other hand. They all watched without blinking as Latie finished stirring the potion, test tasted it again, then handed the bowl over to the Mog-ur.

Mog-ur took the bowl, looked down into it for a long moment, then set it in his lap. When he looked up, he began to sign.

'Protect us mighty Ursus. Guide us safely, all knowing Mut.'

He looked back at the three others, one by one, then lifted the bowl to his lips. Mog-ur took two large swallows, tasting the ancient dusty flavors, the biting tartness of the tang of aftertaste on the back of his tongue. The aftertaste followed the liquid as it slid down his throat, his stomach tried to reject the strong elixir as soon as the first of it hit bottom. Dominating his overwhelming, sudden urge to throw it all back up, he took a deep breath and handed the bowl back to Latie.

The drumming rhythms got a little louder, more persistent.

Latie closed her eyes, pleading with Mut to protect her, then took her two swallows. She handed the bowl across Brenan to Vincavec, and compared the taste to the tastes of the past. It seemed the same, but the aftertaste seemed stronger. She concentrated on this as Vincavec took his dose and passed the bowl off to Brenan. When the potion hit her stomach, the aftertaste grew stronger and rushed back up her throat. Latie dominated the sudden surge, then realized that the potion was indeed stronger. Definitely stronger, this fact bothered her greatly as Brenan swallowed his share. She almost wanted to cry out for him to stop, but it was too late. Latie had to take a series of deep breaths to curb the urge to purge her stomach.

Brenan handed the bowl back to Latie. She took it and saw that it was empty but for a small swirl of cloudy remnant at the bottom. Latie took a deep breath and set the bowl on the paving stones behind her.

The music in front of her grew stronger, louder, more penetrating.

Latie and Brenan scooted closer to each other, the small fire now at their backs as Vincavec and Mog-ur backed up to give them more room. The circle complete, they all reached out and took each other's hands.

Frebec's high, chanting voice rose up over the drumming music. The heavy vibrato reaching new heights, louder, ever higher. Troog's deep, low pitched growl rumbled all the way through the paving stones, vibrating them from beneath—or so it seemed.

Latie opened her eyes wide, she whispered just loud enough for the other three to hear. "Stay together, stay brave, and don't forget to breathe."

The others nodded, Mog-ur flinched, he could almost feel Latie's words in his mind. The fact that he understood her words was unnerving, he must meditate on this later, he thought as he tried to clear the odd thoughts from his mind.

Brenan felt the familiar feeling slowly come on him, the side of Latie's face distorting slightly before him. The flickering firelight casting shadows that were dancing higher and faster. His balance started to falter, even though he was sitting still. Here we go, he thought with a measure of resignation, his brow wrinkling.

Mog-ur felt it, an odd swimming sensation starting in the center of his torso. The plaque on his chest seemed to vibrate and felt suddenly warm against his scars. Latie and Brenan seemed to lean as he watched straight ahead.

Vincavec felt his eyes roll back in his head, a darkness deeper than anything real rolled over him, surrounded him. He felt something, an intrusion in his head, piercing and strong. Matera's voice, sounding far away and almost like the remnant of a distant echo reached him.

"Come back to me safe. Come back whole. Please come back."

**********

Latie succumbed, she felt herself falling. Her consciousness felt as solid as her body, swirling downward in a long, loose spiral. Deeper and darker, spinning now, faster and faster. Darkness swallowing her, she lost all contact with Brenan and the Mog-ur, she was alone. Alone, totally alone. Latie screamed, but she could not hear her own voice, spinning, falling, enveloped in the blackness. Deeper and deeper she fell, her mind racing, her heart pounding, her fear screaming at her to leave this place. Escape, run, get away. The musical remnants fading, quiet settling over her, her heart pounding. It was the only sound she could hear. Cold, so very cold. Eyes open wide, seeing nothing, fear rising. Chest constricting, hard to breath, gasping for breath.

**********

Mog-ur shivered, his limbs felt detached, somewhere else, unmoving, dead. The blackness was cold, and getting colder. His breath came in small gulps, cold air, chilling him with every small spurt that entered his chest. His heart pounded so hard it hurt his ribs, it felt like he was about to explode from within. Spinning, turning, falling—always falling, deeper and deeper into the abyss, cold getting colder. So quiet, no sounds at all other than the rampant beating of his own heart.

**********

Latie gasped as she splashed into the warm water, somersaulting under the waves that crashed above. Losing sight of the surface as she tumbled, can't breath, chest hot and hurting. She felt like she was about to pass out, then her feet hit the sandy bottom. With every bit of energy she had left, she kicked. Hard. Darkness gave way to a very dim light, far above her, she pulled with all her strength against the heavy water. The taste of salt invaded her mouth, her chest ached, she needed air. One last lunge, it was all she had left, her life hanging in the balance. A splash, her head broke the surface, she sucked in air. The pain of her lungs filling with air and splatters of salt water doubled her over for an instant, pain, delicious pain. She took another gasping breath.

**********

Mog-ur felt the surge of warmth as the salt water enveloped his twisting body. The waves buffeted him, the darkness lessened slightly, light above. Darkness below, death below, get away. Warmth, feeling coming back to him, strangely distant. Fingers tingling, toes wiggling, muscles aching. Arms and legs back where they belonged, minding his mental commands again, pull, push, kick, get to the surface. Hurry, need air, can't breath. Chest about to explode. HURRY!

**********

The waves rolled peacefully onto the sand and spread out and diminished with a soft splash.

Latie crawled, her strength almost gone. Her limbs grudgingly obeyed, one more movement forward, once more. Again, again. Her head hung low, she could see the water getting shallower between the ragged strands of her wavy hair. The sand squished between her open fingers, pulled against her grasping toes. The water rushed past her, splashing her in the face, choking her. She coughed, spitting out the warm water, on and on she crawled.

Sunlight glowed, warming her back as she made it up to dry sand. Just a little farther, just a little more, she dragged her weak, tired body on. Waves crashed ashore behind, birds singing before her, beckoning her, just a little farther and she could stop. Lifting her head, she could see trees and tall grass swaying in the gentle breeze ahead. With renewed energy, Latie crawled on in the soft sand. The next time she looked up, she was almost at the edge of the beach, and a strange sight greeted her.

The soft, slightly shimmering figure of a man stood next to the largest tree, his smile was warm. His smile was for her.

**********

Mog-ur was out of breath and he flailed out with both arms, trying desperately to reach the surface. One last push, one last kick, he had nothing left to try again. As he was about to suck water into his lungs, his head broke the surface and instead of seawater, a glorious gush of warm air filled his lungs. He cried out in pain as the air filled him, his chest tightened up and he took another deep breath just as his face went back under water.

With a lurch, he was back on the surface, sucking in the life giving air. Again and again he filled his lungs, the pain lessening slightly with each torturous breath. His body was heavy, his limbs aching and exhausted. Still he fought on, pulling against the salty water, pushing himself toward the shore.

It seemed to go on forever. When he looked forward, Mog-ur could see little progress, the shoreline seemed so far away. So very far away. Not getting closer, he was so tired he could barely lift his arms for another pull.

His feet suddenly found the bottom, and though still deep, the water actually felt like it was pushing him. Pushing him in surges with the waves toward shore. Mog-ur went with it, stepping carefully in the soft sand. One step after the other, breathing heavily, he plodded on.

**********

Vincavec rolled over in the wet sand facing the sky. Every part of his body hurt, his legs quivered as he took another deep breath, his knees knocking together softly. He sucked in another deep breath, and scowled at the pain. He squeezed his hands on either side of his forehead, pressing tightly. The sharp pain he felt lessened slowly as he held the pressure.

He opened his eyes, fast moving clouds blew overhead. Bright white in a field of clear blue, three layers high. A long 'vee' of geese, stark white with black spots on their heads soared past between the lower two layers of clouds.

Vincavec took a deep breath and rolled over on his side. With great effort, he sat up and got his bearings. The sea to his left, dry land to his right. He wrapped his arms around his knees and tried to gather his strength.

Movement to his left, the huge head of a dirk toothed tiger emerged from the waves. The magnificent animal walked slowly toward the shore, water cascading off his shiny tan coat. He reached the shoreline, and turned to his right and walked up a well worn path through the tall, swaying grass.

Vincavec watched him go, smiling at the fierce beast that had paid him no attention at all. It was one of the few things he remembered clearly from the last trip here, nothing on dry land would hurt him. At least it hadn't last time, he thought with a grin.

More movement from the sea, this time much closer. A small lion with a heavy, reddish mane broke through the salty surface. His thick mane hung down in soaked ringlets as the short, stocky beast walked out of the water, his muscles rippling powerfully. At the edge of the surf, he stopped and went into a full body shake, water spraying off him in all directions.

The lion walked casually toward Vincavec, but if he saw the human, it didn't register. He walked past Vincavec almost close enough for Vincavec to have reached out and touch him, but gave no notice of him. The lion veered to his left, and walked toward another, much heavier traveled path through the grass. He was gone in no time.

There is some significance to this, Vincavec considered. He though on it for a while as his strength slowly returned, but was unable to come to any worthwhile conclusions.

**********

Brenan sat in the shade of a wide splayed tree. The wind off the water was cool, and he was worn out. The salty air stung his eyes slightly, but in a weird sort of way. He watched a pair of zebras walk out of the water and take the path to the left. Something was odd here, he thought as the handsome pair disappeared into the brush, but nothing in particular came to mind.

A little while before, just after he had made it to the tree and sat down, a cave lion nearly the size of the one he had killed during his matrimonial seclusion with Latie had come ashore. What was so different, he wondered as he tried to recreate the scene. His mind seemed to move slowly, dissecting the prior animals behavior for differences. What was it, he wondered again.

Brenan gave up, dropping his head into his hands. He was just so tired. Where is Latie, his mind cried out in a rapidly building anguish. She should be here by now.

**********

Latie walked toward the shimmering image of the man. As she got closer, his smile widened and she recognized him. It was Gralon! Latie was confused, but continued on anyway, dominating the fear that crept up her spine.

"Gralon?" Her voice was soft.

"Latie?" Gralon's voice was soft, he looked as confused as Latie felt.

"Why are you here?"

Gralon's face wrinkled in concentration as he pondered the question. When he answered, his voice was not firm.

"I can't find the children, I look and I wait for them, but I can't find them."

"What children, Gralon?" Latie asked softly, seeing the distance in his eyes.

"Brinan and Magie, they fell off the cliff into the water. I tried to save them, but something got me..." His voice trailed off and he shook his head, looking completely dejected.

Latie didn't actually see what had happened on the side of the smoking mountain, but she had heard the story. The two kids had been knocked off the narrow rock trail by a huge falling rock and Gralon had dived over the cliff to rescue them. Before he could find them, he was taken from behind by a huge orca. The orca took him out to sea. He didn't return.

Gralon sat down in the shade, he looked past Latie, searching.

"Gralon, have you looked for them?"

Gralon shook his head. "I've walked the shoreline over and over. I can't find them."

Standing up suddenly, Gralon looked past Latie out into the rolling surf. An old man of the Clan walked out of the shallows and toward the shore.

"It's not them." Gralon said and sat back down. "They'll get here, I'll find them. I'll wait."

Latie wasn't sure what to do, she thought about it, but nothing came to her. She saw the man of the Clan walk over to the trail on the right, and disappear into the brush.

"I'm going into the woods to find my companions, will you come with me?" Latie asked.

Gralon had that far away look on his face again as he shook his head. "No, I have to find the children..."

Latie walked away slowly, toward the well worn trail to the left. Her mind in turmoil, she should have seen at least one of the others by now. Where were they? Where is Brenan?

**********

Vincavec lurched up and got to his feet, his balance was off for a bit, but once he started walking everything got better quickly. The sand was warm between his toes, soft and squishy, the gusting winds off the water chilled him.

A man broke the surface in the water, his hair was red and curly. Vincavec stopped to watch as he walked slowly out of the water and eventually took the path to the left. He was swallowed by the underbrush and Vincavec lost sight of him in short order.

Vincavec walked down the beach, trying his best to remember what he needed to do next. A nagging thought kept coming back to him, where were the others? Without consciously thinking about it, he took the well worn path to the left and moved up through the tall, swaying grass.

**********

Mog-ur stood up on weak, tired legs, he took a few steps through the hard packed wet sand and found he could walk without too much difficulty. With every step he took, it got a little easier and he could feel his strength slowly returning. His chest no longer hurt, he realized, and the Mog-ur felt a little better all over.

A huge crocodile crawled out of the surf and made its way up into the wet sand just in from of him. Startled, Mog-ur stepped back as the huge beast lifted his body up and walked through the sand and turned toward him.

Mog-ur felt the fear, he had seen how fast the clumsy looking animals were, and backpedaled several quick steps to give the croc plenty of room. The beast ignored him all together, and walked up the sandy beach. When he reached the edge of the grass, he took a well worn path through the brush, disappearing almost immediately. Mog-ur was curious, and followed the crocodile's path up to the trail.

As he stood at the edge of the brush, considering what he had just seen, he heard something behind him and turned around quickly. A heavily pregnant woman of the Clan emerged from the rolling waves. She coughed and sputtered for a bit, then made her way to the edge of the water. She walked heavily, her belly was huge and cumbersome.

Mog-ur walked a few steps toward her, and made a sign of greeting when he thought she looked at him. She made no sign in return, looking through him as she approached. Mog-ur stepped to his right, getting directly into her path, making the sign of greeting again. The woman gave no indication that she saw him at all, and walked right through him. For the briefest of instants, Mog-ur felt her thoughts as her body passed through his. 'Must find Trin, only he can help me...'

Blanching, Mog-ur's mind spun out of control for a long moment. The shock of the woman passing through him was immense. But feeling her thoughts was more unsettling than he would have thought possible. As he regained control of his feelings, he spun and watched as the woman walked up the beach a little further. Past the path the croc took, on down near a short, thick tree. He saw another path there, a less used path than the one the croc took. She turned and walked up this path, slowly but seemingly sure of where she was going.

Without stopping to consider his actions, Mog-ur followed her from a good distance back.

**********

Brenan lay back in the warm sand. The heat on his back felt good and he was unsure what to do next. He needed to find the others, but couldn't quite remember how. It was nice to relax, and for some reason he didn't feel like he was in any particular hurry, it was kind of nice here.

**********

Latie walked slowly down the path as it wound its way through the trees and heavy brush. Birds were everywhere, colorful and full of songs. Pleasant songs, soothing to listen to. She stopped often, forgetting everything else to listen to their antics, watching as they flitted through the lower limbs of the trees all around. A bright yellow, small bird flew down and lit on her head. Latie giggled, reaching up to shoo him away, but the small, curious bird hopped onto her finger instead of flying away. Latie held her hand in front of her face, and the canary reached out tentatively and pecked her lightly on the lip.

Giggling anew, Latie reached up with her other hand and caressed the colorful feathers on his back. The canary ducked down for a moment, then pushed back against Latie's gentle fingers wanting more. Latie didn't disappoint the handsome little bird, petting him as he whistled to her softly.

**********

Vincavec walked up the path, marveling at the scenery. Chipmunks chattered all around him from the left, and a huge ground turtle lumbered along foraging to his right. Everywhere he looked, some kind of animal was lounging or wandering around with no apparent purpose. None of them gave any indication that they could see him at all. It's all too strange, Vincavec didn't remember it being quite like this last time, and was getting rather confused by it all.

He continued down the trail, sauntering along at a leisurely pace, growing stronger and more relaxed as he went. A huge python slithered by in front of him, and Vincavec jumped back involuntarily. He watched the big snake crawl past, amazed at the size of him and the silky grace in which he moved.

Mamut, I can't remember, Vincavec thought. How do I find you, there isn't much time. I must speak with you. How do I do it, how can I find you? Vincavec's rambling thoughts continued.

As he followed the trail, it turned around a large stand of banana trees with huge green clumps of bananas hanging low to the ground. Vincavec looked them over and reached up to get one, and was perplexed when his hand passed through it.

"Don't you remember, you can't effect anything here."

Vincavec jerked at the voice, and looked into Old Mamut's eyes standing a few steps from him.

"Mamut!" Vincavec was so relieved that he almost cried. "You're here."

Old Mamut smiled, his wrinkled face gleaming. All around the edges of his profile, a soft, glowing shimmer outlined his features. His old body looked the same as from the last time Vincavec had seen him, but somehow he appeared stronger, more vital. Overall, he looked quite unworldly.

"Yes, I am always here. I felt your call, it is good to see you again. This place is my home now, I haven't found a way out of here—yet." Mamut's voice was soft, but soothing as he spoke through a wide smile. "We must talk, you can't stay here too much longer. The dangers here are very real..."

**********

Mog-ur kept getting distracted as he tried to figure out what to do next. He needed to make some kind of contact with the others he came with. Without them, he was lost, nothing in his memories prepared him for this place, not like this. All he thought he knew was wrong, and everything was incomplete at the very best.

His mind wandered more as he walked, observing some rather strange animals as he went along the wide trail. A short, hairless animal with a long neck and frighteningly large teeth sprinted by running upright on two legs. A long legged bird with short, useless looking wings hopped up onto a low boulder and squawked loudly, obviously irritated at something.

How do I find the old, one armed Mog-ur, he wondered, trying to figure it out on his own. Where would the old holy man be? Mog-ur slowed to a stop, cocking his head and listening for the chatter of the others he had come here with. The people of the Others could never stay quiet for long, he reasoned, surely I will hear their chatter if I get close enough to them.

'Yes, you will hear them easily.' The deep voice resonated in his head. Mog-ur froze, looking around him in surprise.

An old man of the Clan stepped out from behind a berry covered bush. He held a thick walking staff but walked easily without using it for support. One arm and leg were twisted and stunted, overly thin and obviously close to useless. A dangling flap of skin, scar tissue really, covered his eye at the bottom edge of a huge set of scars that could have been made from only one thing—a cave bear. Ursus himself.

Unlike the pregnant Clan woman he had seen and followed, this old man's body was slightly transparent and had a shimmering glow all around his profile. Mog-ur could actually see partially through him, and the shimmering features distorted everything as he looked through at the landscape beyond.

'Drak, I am Creb.' The old man signed as he leaned the staff against his body and signed with his good hand, but somehow Mog-ur could 'hear' the signs in his head. 'You seek me, I am here.'

Mog-ur was taken back, the eerie voice inside his head bothered him, but his curiosity overcame his trepidation.

'Creb, you are the one of legend. The most powerful Mog-ur of the Clan, all the Clan, the memories speak of you often.'

Creb's one eye twinkled. 'I am he.'

**********

"Mamut, I have to know what happened to the Cave Bear Camp." Vincavec said, his voice laced with emotion. "Were they found by the northern raiders?"

His voice softened as he continued. "Were they destroyed?"

The shimmer around Old Mamut's body glowed a little brighter as he answered.

"No, Tazen and Frietag were out scouting game on the prairie and caught a glimpse of the raiders as they came up from the south." Mamut paused as Vincavec shuddered as he took it all in.

"The raiders destroyed the Amber Camp, but before they killed Marec, they tortured him until he told them where your new camp was located. Averie took no chances, they abandon the camp and fled to the west through the low mountains."

"So they are alive?" Vincavec asked, his voice quivering and he had tears rolling down his cheeks.

"Yes."

"And the other camps?"

Old Mamut lowered his eyes for a moment, when he looked back at Vincavec, he bore a sad expression on his old face.

"Of all the camps of the Southern Mamutoi, as you named yourselves, only a few are left intact.

"The Red Deer Camp, The Owl Camp, and the Sturgeon Camp are gone—destroyed completely. The Lynx Camp and the Antelope Camp were raided, but after the leaders were killed, the rest chose to submit to the Northern Mamutoi's rule.

"Sadly, the Mamutoi as you knew them are no more. The Cave Bear Camp have traveled far to the west and made a home in a large valley near a river in lands that are not Mamutoi. They survive, the land is rich, but they are alone."

Vincavec dropped his head, his tears rolled freely.

Old Mamut watched him silently for a long time, allowing Vincavec time to regain control over his emotions. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft and soothing, but had a commanding edge to it.

"You did what I asked you to do, Vincavec. You saved my beloved Lion Camp."

Vincavec looked up, a startled look on his face.

"Yes, I came to you in your dreams, I spoke to you there. I tried to communicate with you directly when you made your own potion to try and come here. It was me that put the idea in your head to warn the Lion Camp. It was me that led you away from your home. Had you tried to get back, you would have been caught and your own camp would not have survived..."

**********

'The path you took was the correct one. The Land of the Sun is the safest place for your Clan.' Creb signed. 'Joining with the Others as you did was the best thing you could have done. Your Clan was too small to have survived on your own, even with the new weapons of the Others.'

Mog-ur blanched, the old one eyed Mog-ur knows everything, he thought. He worried that there would be repercussions for breaking with the old ways.

'Then we did the right thing? Using weapons that are not Clan?' Mog-ur asked, almost afraid of the answer that would come.

'Yes. It was the only way.' Creb signed, then his face took on a sad look as he went on.

'Hear me, and remember. I give you this knowledge freely, but understand that what I tell you cannot be changed. The Clan as you know it are doomed as a people, as a race. They will cease to be.

'Already, many Clans are losing too many of their women in childbirth, more and more all the time. The hunting grounds of the Clan are being taken over by the Others a little at a time. Clans are being forced to move into less prosperous lands, they will wither there with less to eat and will grow weak. Most will die this way, those that try to return to their old lands will be decimated by the Others who are many, and growing still.

'The Clan is too stringent in their ways, the ways of old. Ursus never meant for the Clan to stop learning, but somehow, by the teachings of the current mog-urs, for the most part we have. Without learning new ways to supplement the old, the Clan grows stale and weakens constantly, the Clan dies slowly even now. The world changes around us, but we do not change with it.

'As you have found, the old ways were not always as they are now. Women used to hunt, men used to clean their kills and knew how to cook their game. These things are now mostly forgotten, lost entirely to too many Clans. Without this knowledge, they will slowly perish. Clan by clan, they will die out as the Others become more populous and spread and take over the earth.

'The only Clan that will survive in the end will be of the rare mixtures sometimes made between the Others and the Clan. These odd offspring will survive, but they will live as the Others live, not as Clan.'

Mog-ur lowered his eyes with the harsh reality that Mog-ur One Eye laid out for him. He was overwhelmed, and lost. It took all he could do to look back up and sign again.

'There is nothing to be done to prevent this?'

Creb's hard look softened just a little. He knew the feelings going through this holy man's head, they were very familiar.

'You are doing the only thing that can be done. The young of your Clan will prosper living with the Others as you do. Eventually, some will take mates from these people and in this way the Clan will survive. Pure Clan will die out as I have seen it and explained it to you, the Clan will ultimately be no more.'

Mog-ur looked into the sad eye, but somehow found a measure of strength for himself there. This was the holiest, most powerful Mog-ur the Clan had ever known. If he says this will be, Drak had no doubts that it was true. A sadness rolled over him like he had never before felt, but somehow it was laced with a thin thread of hope. Hope for the future.

**********

"The place you traveled so far to get to is good. This Land of the Sun is a rich, bountiful land." Old Mamut said with a wry smile.

"This is a place that you will prosper and grow. A place to lay deep roots. A place to grow old and die in."

Vincavec smiled through his tears, everything Old Mamut said was true, and he had thought it himself often. For a brief moment, he wondered if Old Mamut had put all this in his head as well.

"No, I did not put these thoughts to you." Old Mamut said, still grinning as Vincavec blanched again. "These are all your own thoughts, but they are correct.

"The lands of the Mamutoi are doomed to endure turmoil and trouble for a long time to come. The Eastern Savages you encountered during your journey are moving steadily west. They will reach the lands of the Mamutoi in numbers that will be hard, possibly impossible to defeat. They bring a kind of savagery and determination that will be unlike anything the Mamutoi have ever encountered. The raiders from the north will face this hoard on their own, alone."

Vincavec couldn't help but to grin at the prospect of the northern raiders getting a taste of their own medicine. He was sad too, the thought of the lands he knew and loved being occupied by the savages from the east was as distasteful as the idea of the northern Mamutoi having them.

"Let it go, Vincavec." Mamut's voice interrupted his thoughts. "You have a home that is yours to keep. A home that will sustain you without the massive conflict due to occur in the north. Stay, don't try to return. Your loved ones are doing well on their own, and I believe they will likely survive, though not as a part of the Mamutoi."

Vincavec looked up at Mamut with a strange look on his face.

"So you do not know for sure, you cannot see the future?"

Old Mamut smiled. "Vincavec, whether I can see the future or not is really no concern of yours."

Vincavec laughed aloud, the worry on his face disappearing as his old friend's comments sounded so very familiar—and oh so welcome.

**********

Mog-ur looked at Creb, there were still a few things that continued to bother him.

'I do not know how to find the Others I came here with. I do not know how to get back to the Land of the Sun.'

Creb looked at the medallion hanging on the Mog-ur's chest. He could see the blue tendrils of the sun peeking out from behind the white plaque. Creb closed his eyes for a moment before he signed.

'I will send you to where one of the Others is as soon as we are finished. This one knows the way to get back, he will take you.' Creb was slightly amused that the Mog-ur was surprised that he knew of the mamut, called Vinc-vac.

Mog-ur took a deep breath, so many things the old holy man knew, it was astounding. It took a concerted effort for him to go on, but he had to.

'Mog-ur, why can I see through you. I couldn't see through the animals or the pregnant woman I followed here?'

Creb's face grew sad looking again. He didn't answer at once, but instead he leaned over and plucked a delicate pink wildflower. He studied it for a moment, then sniffed at its soft, pleasing aroma. Creb remembered a time long ago when his daughter, Ayla, used to bring him flowers like this one. Embarrassing him at first, because he was a man of the Clan after all, he grew to love the sights and scents of these pretty, simple little gifts. Mostly though, he loved the sweet look on Ayla's face when she gave them to him, and the warmth of her small, skinny body when she hopped up in his lap to cuddle. Creb took a deep breath and brought himself back to the present. His look was hard again as he began to sign.

'As the Clan dies, I will die with them. When the last of our people are gone, I will cease to be. Somehow I am tied to the Clan, my existence here will end with their ultimate demise. I do not know this for sure, but it is what I see.'

**********

"You need to go back, you have been here too long." Mamut said, studying Vincavec's face.

"How do I find the rest of my people?" Vincavec asked, a sudden fear of losing them here forever hitting him without warning.

Old Mamut smiled, then closed his eyes. "I will bring Mog-ur and Latie here to meet you."

Vincavec's face went white. "What about Brenan?"

Old Mamut gave him a questioning look, then closed his eyes again. His brow wrinkled in his concentration. "I do not feel him, he is not searching for me."

"I don't understand." Vincavec said, an edge of irritation in his voice.

"Here, when you seek me with your mind it is like a beacon, I can feel your thoughts and locate you easily. If you do not think of me, I cannot always feel your presence." Mamut gave Vincavec a hard look, then closed his eyes again to search his feelings. Nothing.

**********

Latie felt the path beckoning her to follow it, strangely, she felt no urge to argue with the odd, insistent feelings and simply obeyed. It was a pleasant day for a walk, and the little canary stayed with her. He hopped from her finger to her shoulder and back again, whistling to her all the while.

Hearing an odd, deep pitched voice off to her right through the brush, she stopped and looked toward the sounds. Latie smiled brightly, it was the Mog-ur. He walked toward her at a rapid pace, she waited patiently, caressing the friendly little canary's wing feathers lightly.

Mog-ur caught up to her, and his face lost color when he saw what she was doing. Tentatively, he reached up to touch the small bird, but his finger passed through the bright yellow feathers as if they weren't there at all. He closed his eyes tightly shut for a moment, then gave Latie a brusk sign for them to go on. Latie nodded and followed the Mog-ur as he walked away at a quick, steady pace.

**********

Vincavec spotted the pair as they rounded a curve through the trees on the main trail. He lifted his arms and waved to them, and was quickly seen. Mog-ur veered directly toward them and increased his pace even more. Latie followed along rather nonchalantly with something yellow on her hand. Vincavec strained to see what it was, then dismissed it as probably just a flower.

Old Mamut had his eyes closed, his brow still wrinkled in deep concentration. Sweat began beading up on his forehead. He reached out with his considerable mental prowess, but found no hint at all of Brenan. Though not yet willing to say anything, he was worried.

When Old Mamut opened his eyes, he was shocked so badly that he couldn't keep it off his face. His mouth dropped, and his eye went wide. It took him a moment before he could gather his wits enough to speak, and when he did, his voice was as rattled as he was.

"Latie, how did you do that?"

Latie smiled her innocent smile, glad to see Old Mamut, but didn't understand his angst or his question. It showed.

"Mamut, what do you mean?"

"The bird, the bird recognizes you. It knows you are here. How did you do it?"

Latie looked at the canary still perched on her finger, and leaned forward to give it a small kiss on the beak. "I don't know, it just flew up to me. I whistled at it and it lit on my finger." She stared back at Mamut. "I didn't do anything."

Vincavec and the Mog-ur both understood Mamut's shock and awe. Vincavec had tried several times to affect small things here, with no positive results at all. Mog-ur had figured it out when the Clan woman had walked right through him.

Old Mamut suddenly grinned, and he actually chuckled before he spoke. "Latie, can you feel Brenan? Can you figure out where he is, and maybe lead him here?"

Latie gave him a funny look. "Why, can't you call him?"

Mamut answered simply. "No."

Latie's face got serious, and she closed her eyes and concentrated. He mind sent out a powerful thought, 'Brenan—come to me'. She backed off and opened her mind up to any possible response. Nothing. She tried again, focusing harder and sharper this time.

Just as Latie was about to try again, she felt something. She closed her eyes again and opened her mind as much as she could, and she felt Brenan's presence. It was getting closer.

Mog-ur watched Latie as she worked. It dawned on him that his original evaluation of Latie so long ago was slightly flawed. Latie was a very talented, powerful mamut, and her potential was no where near being fully realized. The thought made him smile, the pride he felt was immeasurable.

"Hey!" Brenan's voice called out from a good way down the trail. He waved his arms and rushed toward them.

**********

"Don't return here unless you have to. You have already stayed too long, you will have to hurry or you may not make it back at all." Mamut said, smiling at these old friends, and the Mog-ur he never knew. "Fly like the wind, Latie."

"Don't worry, I'll never come here again." Brenan said with a sarcastic smile.

"Thank you, my friend." Vincavec said, smiling at Mamut.

"I'll always love you." Latie added with tears in her eyes.

'Walk with Ursus.' The shimmering vision of Creb signed to the Mog-ur.

Mog-ur nodded, and signed simply in return. 'You live in the memories, walk with Ursus.'

The four metaphysical travelers joined hands, and with a single, powerful thought from Latie, they lifted off the ground together. They soared straight up, then flared north before picking up speed and disappearing from sight.

Old Mamut watched, a tear rolling down his cheek. Goodbye my daughter, he thought sadly.

Creb turned away, and walked slowly and heavily back through the woods without a backwards glance. He was slightly more transparent now than he had been when the Mog-ur had called to him. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he was tired. Very tired.

**********

Vincavec flinched and opened his eyes slowly, almost afraid of what he might see, Matera was bent over him and all he could see was her beautiful, worried face. He hadn't seen such a welcome sight in years, even though it spun and wobbled in and out of focus slowly before him. His normally sharp mind felt dull and slow, every thought seemed to take forever to form and even longer to act on it. Vincavec tried to speak, but his mouth felt glued shut it was so dry and sticky. Matera smiled at him and Vincavec's entire world got even better.

"They're back!" Matera's hoarse whisper carried easily to all within the tight circle of those holding and cradling the returning metaphysical travelers. Nezzie had Latie's head cradled in her lap, Etra had the Mog-ur, and Tressie held Brenan.

Nezzie leaned over to kiss Latie on the forehead, her eyes flickered rapidly about under closed eyelids, then opened slowly. "Mama?" Her voice was sweet, soft, and childlike. Nezzie's tears fell onto Latie's face, but she smiled broadly. Latie's upper body trembled slightly as she closed her eyes again, squinting them tightly shut as if in pain, but Nezzie pulled her tight and held her securely.

Mog-ur moaned and his body jerked, he coughed a couple of times and his upper body trembled with short, powerful spasms. The thick muscles in his biceps twitched independently all on their own. Etra held on to him a little tighter, not allowing him much room for movement. His body jerked again and his eyes snapped opened wide, the soothing sounds of the haunting music and the sight of Etra's concerned face above him confirmed that he was back. Mog-ur felt a wave of relief at the sight of her familiar face, so much so it surprised him. He took a deep breath and relaxed, Etra did too—a little. What an experience, he thought, no wonder the legends speak of this root with such awe and only in dark, shadowy language.

Vincavec sat up slowly with Matera's help, and she immediately cover his mouth with her own as she wrapper her arms around him protectively. The kiss and embrace of welcome was just what he needed. As he pulled back and looked over at his accomplices, he froze with an extremely worried look on his face. He patted her on the back then quickly freed himself from Matera's clutching arms and scramble over to Tressie still holding Brenan in her lap. He still hadn't moved, and didn't look even remotely alive. Vincavec couldn't see any indication that Brenan was even breathing.

Tressie rocked Brenan slowly in her lap, gently caressing his forehead, pulling loose strands of hair away from his face. His skin felt cold and clammy, cool sweat beaded up on his face and forehead.

Latie saw Vincavec's erratic movement out of the corner of her mostly closed eyes, and quickly came to her senses. She sat up quickly and looked over to see Brenan's lifeless looking body, but what worried her the most was his face. Blank, pale, expressionless, and covered with that shiny sheen of unworldly looking sweat. Latie scrambled to her knees and rushed to his side. She grasped Brenan's face in her hands, and looked to Tressie who simply nodded her head back and forth sadly.

"He hasn't moved." Tressie whispered. "Not at all."

"Brenan!" Latie said aloud, forcefully. "Brenan, come back!" Brenan's eyes moved beneath the closed lids, slowly going from one side to the other. Once. Then they stopped. There was no further movement.

Latie lowered her face down in front of his slightly open mouth, Brenan's breath was so soft it was almost nonexistent. Her body swayed, Latie was suddenly so very dizzy, the effects of the powerful root still strongly lingering, still powerful within her. She felt the sea of blackness coming, surrounding her, enveloping her. Brenan's lifeless looking face was all she could see, then the blackness closed in and took even that away from her.

Vincavec caught her under the arms, and the weight of her as she lost her slumped over took both of them to the ground. They landed on Vincavec's side with a plop, the warm paving stones hard and unmoving. Vincavec felt a hard knock on the side of his head, a sharp pain accompanied it with a thin warm streak that coursed down the side of his face.

Matera was there quickly, trying to separate them and laid their bodies out into a more comfortable position. Latie was easy to move, and when she pulled her legs straight Matera saw Latie's eyes flutter behind closed eyelids. Latie moaned softly, then was still. Vincavec was harder to get stretched out, his thighs seemed to be drawn up too tightly for a barely conscious man. Matera wrestled with his stiff limbs, then his head slumped back to the paving stones and the rest of his body went limp.

The drumming rhythm continued, picking up a little speed and volume behind them. The rest of the crowd sat in rapt fascination, worried but entranced by the unusual happenings.

Only Inca moved, and she walked quickly around the back of the crowd toward the main fire. She grabbed up a few things from the back side and approached the shelter.

Nezzie took the steaming tea basket from Inca who backed away as soon Nezzie had the small stack of cups firmly in her grasp. Matera got behind Vincavec and pulled him up and into a slightly reclining position, cradling him against her ample chest. Vincavec moaned as she pulled him up tight against her body, and his eyes flickered open. Nezzie handed her the first steaming cup.

Tressie had her hand clasped against Brenan's neck on the side, the fat vein there was not throbbing as it was supposed to. The pulses were soft and erratic in their broken, choppy rhythms. She took a deep breath and leaned over and placed her mouth on his, pulling his chin down and pinching his nose shut and breathed into him with a slow but steady force. Tressie backed off, feeling the slow stream of air as it released from Brenan's slightly gaping mouth, then she breathed in deep and did it again.

Latie twitched, and Nezzie pulled her up and held her arm around Latie's shoulders to support her. Latie opened her eyes into a small squint, and her upper body trembled as a chill went through her. Nezzie helped Latie to sip the strong tea, it was laced with a large amount of finely ground, aged raspberry leaf, a slight stimulant in this quantity with an overly strong, slightly bitter flavor. Latie made a sour face at the taste, but her head wasn't spinning quite as fast as long as she stayed still and took deep breaths. As she tried to sit up straighter, Nezzie laid her arm on her chest to prevent Latie from getting up. Latie was too weak to resist, but her eyes pleaded with her mother to let her go. Nezzie just shook her head, and held her daughter a little tighter.

Vincavec could see what Tressie was doing, and Etra was suddenly there kneeling beside her. He was worried, but the way his head felt he knew he was of no use to them, not yet, not until the entire world stopped this slow spin it was doing. Brenan was in capable hands, Tressie and Etra were both strong, knowledgeable healers, he thought as he watched them work.

Mog-ur sat up with his legs crossed, watching. His head felt as strange as it could be, but he felt a little more stable with each breath he took. Breathing in deeply, he held it for a long moment before letting it all out again, very slowly. His head still felt light and he did it all again. And again. The spinning, dizzy sensation slowed a little with each strong breath.

Etra was breathing into Brenan now, and Mog-ur could see his chest rising and falling in small increments. A small movement caught his eye, and he saw Brenan's fingers slowly close into a loose fist. The veins stood out on his forearms, and Mog-ur could see the pulsing pick up a little speed.

Tressie started massaging Brenan's chest and shoulders, slowly at first then a little more vigorously and harder. Etra continued to breath into his mouth, backing off between breaths. The veins in his arm stood out a little higher.

"Brenan come back!" Latie called out, her voice pained and high. With a sudden, clumsy lurch, she sat up and broke away from Nezzie's grasp. Latie crawled over and grabbed Brenan's hands and threw her leg over him and sat down over his crotch as gently as she could. His eyes fluttered once, then again a little weaker this time, then were still. Sickeningly still.

"Brenan—you listen to me!" Her voice was strong and firm now, commanding in her determined tone and inflection. Her mate spun briefly under her and Latie felt like she was going to lose her balance again. Gritting her teeth, she fought off, squared her shoulders, then finally dominated the wobbly, uneasy, dizzy feeling.

"Brenan, listen to me. Listen to the rhythms—follow the sounds." Her determination was steadfast. "Follow the sounds, come home. Come back to me."

Mog-ur stood up and swayed slightly at first before regaining his balance. A vast ring of darkness began to envelope his sight, he stood firm and planted his feet, within his mind Mog-ur focused sharply, dominating this black hole he was falling into. The circle slowed, Mog-ur took a breath and fought back harder. The dark circle backed off slowly, disappearing back into the night. He took a few small steps, watching the ground do funny things before him, the paving stones appeared to be alive, moving around like they floated on water. Stopping at Brenan's widely spread feet, he looked over Latie's shoulder and down at the young man he had grown to like and respect. Time is running out, he thought, we must hurry.

Dropping to one knee beside the two of them, Mog-ur placed his hand on Brenan's chest, his heartbeat was slow and weak. An idea came to him, and Mog-ur examined it for an instant before lifting his hand to sign.

"Lat-tee", use your mind—command him to return.' The one handed signs Mog-ur made were easily legible to her, even in her deeply emotional state.

Latie scowled, she should have thought of this and chided herself for not realizing it. She lifted his hands in hers, and closed her eyes as she squeezed his cold hands tightly. Latie concentrated, focusing her thoughts into simple, direct commands. She opened her eyes and looked at Brenan's closed eyes, shooting her thoughts through them. A flash of realization hit her strongly as her eyes rolled back, the thoughts she felt emanated through her mind. She could suddenly see what Brenan was seeing, then she got another shock when she could actually hear his thoughts, though briefly.

Random, scared thoughts coursed through her. Brenan wasn't lost, at least he didn't think so, but he didn't seem to know that he needed to come back. He was scared, but he was also vaguely interested and amused at his surroundings. Latie could feel that much, but something else was happening in his mind, something strange. Brenan felt like there was no hurry, and the power of the root was waning badly, Latie could feel the effects wearing off more and more.

Latie was suddenly shocked to feel another presence, Someone else was in his head, someone familiar feeling. She didn't have time for this and took a deep, quivering breath and sent her thoughts into her mate's head again, stronger this time. Sharper. And deeper, immanently deeper.

'Brenan come to me, follow the familiar sounds of the music. Follow my voice.'

Latie felt Brenan's presence grow slightly stronger within herself, through his eyes she saw a swirling cloud of stark white and shades of light blue. The clouds swirled all around him, getting thicker and harder to see through. Winds surrounded him, getting stronger, faster, pulling him deeper into the heart of the swirling clouds. Relentlessly strong, devastatingly alluring.

'Brenan, concentrate. Come to me—now.'

Latie was shocked to feel another's thoughts, another presence, someone else was with him—them. She could feel someone taking hold of her arm, no, it was Brenan's arm. Latie felt confusion and fear roll over her entire being, she swayed again under the strain, then forced herself back upright. She concentrated anew.

The grasping hand pulled Brenan out of the swirling clouds. Strong and persistent, powerful, so very powerful.

It was dark, and Latie felt her grip on Brenan's consciousness waning. Just as she lost the mental contact, she caught a brief glimpse of Creb beside him. She felt his strength. Creb, his muscular arm and hand flexing with power as it pulled Brenan strongly away from the dangerous, swirling mists. The world started spinning rapidly all around her and Latie looked up to see only darkness. Blackness enveloped her and swallowed her whole. Latie's body went limp, and her last conscious thought was trying to thank the old holy man of the Clan for saving Brenan when she couldn't.

Mog-ur caught Latie as her head fell forward and she passed out, rolling off Brenan's prone, lifeless looking body. He slowly laid her down next to Brenan, gently. He reached over and laid his hand back on Brenan's chest, and tried to infuse him with the power of life. Mog-ur concentrated as begged the old spirits to help, pleading with every bit of his being. A sudden, strong gust of wind blew in and he felt Brenan's heartbeat pick up, getting stronger and faster. He willed it to get stronger, feeling the beats gradually quicken. Brenan's eyes fluttered, then opened ever so slightly. He coughed softly, then took a shallow, hissing breath.

Brenan's chest began to quiver, gently at first, then stronger. His breath came in raspy gasps, and his head lolled over to the side, away from Latie. With a sudden jerk, Brenan's knees came up to his chest and his body curled on his side. Coughing violently, he suddenly threw up in a wide spew over the paving stones. When he was spent, he coughed a few more times and Mog-ur gently rolled him over onto his back.

Eyes wide open, the frightened look permeated his entire being. He shook all over, even his fingers and bare toes twitching. Etra leaned down and covered him with two soft, lush sleeping furs as Tressie leaned over him wiping his face with a cool, wet rag. She got his face cleaned up, and Brenan's breathing began to slow gradually. The scared look on his face faded much more slowly.

"Where's Latie?" He whispered softly, his lips sticking together as he spoke.

"She's here, just sleeping." Tressie answered softly as Etra continued to wipe his face. "She's all right. Everyone's all right."

Brenan looked up into Mog-ur's deep brown eyes, there was a certain amount of comfort there as he felt the quiet power of the Mog-ur as he stared back down at him. A feeling of serenity, of safety. His vision was still slightly blurred, but when he tried to focus in on Mog-ur's face better, Brenan saw a slightly glowing figure behind him. A rather transparent looking man of the Clan stood behind the Mogur leaning heavily on a walking staff. He looked tired, and Brenan blinked to try and clear his eyes. It was Creb, it had to be, and he looked as exhausted as Brenan felt. How odd, Brenan thought, his memory of the recent experience coming in scattered bits and pieces.

Brenan lifted his hand slowly and made a short series of weak, choppy signs. 'This man is grateful.'

Creb faded slowly out of sight, making a sign with his good hand as he disappeared, a tired, but satisfied look on his rugged face.

'Walk with Ursus.'


	41. Chapter 27 Part 4

.

**Chapter Twenty Seven**

_The Waterfall Camp_

**Part Four**

Talut's raucous laughter rang out. The circle of hunters chuckled all around him, enjoying the hilarity of the moment in the cool of the early morning. The men were discussing a better hunt strategy for the flats, and Talut had been the subject of a joke that Danug had come up with.

"You're near as big as me now, boy. Best remember that!" Talut said through his waning laughter.

Danug's face got even redder than it had been, and he laughed aloud again. "But I'm not as wide as you are!"

"You're not as good between the furs either!" Talut boomed, laughing all the harder.

The rest of the men joined in, cat calls ringing out and the level of hilarity increasing a little with every new, smart alec comment. Even the men of the Clan got caught up in the jovial spirit, though many of the humorous remarks went over their heads. The laughter continued, and grew.

**********

Vincavec had slept in, getting up so late that the hut was empty and the sun was high. By the time he actually got up and slipped on his short leggings, his stomach was growling. His body was still streaked with the black and white paint. Matera had given him a good going over with wet rags last night, but without the aid of an abundance of soap root he was just going to be multi colored. Besides, he thought, Matera worked him over pretty good before he finally fell into the luscious feeling deep sleep that held him as a pleasant captive until now. He grinned slyly at the memory of their mating, raw and hurried. And oh so pleasurable.

No dreams, he thought with a satisfied smile. I remember, I can remember this time. Vincavec smiled, I remember everything. Thank you my dear old friend, he thought, looking up to the ceiling of the hut. Thank you for putting my mind at ease Mamut, to know that my camp still lives gives me reason to go on. Reason to live, reason to raise my new family in this wonderful land.

Thank you Mamut, for saving me so long ago, and for saving me again now. I promise I'll not waste this new chance at life, I promise. In his mind, he could see every detail of the old wrinkled face. The face of his oldest friend.

**********

Matera handed Etra a clean wrap. She carefully pulled it between Tressie's hands as she held the light bandage in place and slowly wrapped it around Jozen's calf, over and over. Etra tied it off with several small lightweight leather strips, and sat back as Jozen grinned up at her.

The leg was better, much better than yesterday. It was still incredibly sore, and utterly impossible to put much weight on, but getting better all the same. No new pockets of infection had popped up, and the two the healers lanced the day before were bright pink and healing well.

"Are you done fussing over me yet?" Jozen asked with a wide smile.

Matera gave him a look that dulled the wide grin a bit, but her answer more than made up for the stern look. "Stay off the leg, but get on out of here."

Tressie helped him to his feet, and handed him the two crutches and helped him get situated. Jozen took his hand off the crutch, and signed as he spoke. "Thank you, ladies."

Etra nodded at him with a twinkle in her eyes.

Taking his time, and small steps, Jozen made his way out of the main lodge and hobbled out toward the main fire to get another bite to eat.

**********

Brug led his hunters into camp from the east. Each one of them had two guineas slung over their shoulders, three hunters, six birds. Efficient, consistent, and steady. These three young hunters were all of these and more, proving themselves on an almost daily basis.

Druwez made his first kill with a bow today, but he missed four times before actually getting his one bird. Brug took two birds with his bow, but Mortan's deadly spears downed the first three birds in rapid succession. After that, he hung back and watched as Brug and Druwez chased the birds and fired at them over and over until they had their three birds. Brug missed once, but his next two shots were spot on deadly.

Brug looked around for the Mog-ur, he had gone out this morning specifically hunting the fat game birds especially for the Mog-ur. The old holy man had a real fondness for the tender guinea, especially when cooked in the ground ovens. He was nowhere to be seen, probably out on his bench, Brug thought as Inca came over to take the guineas with little Ooga at her side.

Ooga gave him that odd look again, the one that Brug didn't really understand, but it always made him slightly uncomfortable. That look, what does she mean by it, he wondered—again. She looks at me like I am some kind of, of what, he asked himself. That same strange feeling of tightness began again in his hunting leggings. Right in the crotch.

'Nice guineas, how many did you get, "Brug"?' Ooga asked, her deep brown eyes sparkling with adoration.

Brug felt his face getting hot, he signed quickly as he handed her the two fat birds. 'Two.'

His leggings got a little tighter as she and Inca walked away.

**********

Brenan sipped the tea slowly, it was hot and tasty, but his stomach felt weak and he was careful to not put any undue strain on it. Latie sat back, reclined on a neat pile of folded sleeping furs and watched him.

Out in the center of the lodge, Matera and Etra cleaned up from where they had just treated Jozen and Thorec, putting their supplies away. Tressie finished up changing Ludeg's thigh bandage, and Troog waited patiently for him wearing fresh bandages of his own.

Ludeg got up, favoring his sore leg, and Troog sided up to him and wrapped his thick arm around Ludeg's waist and helped him walk out of the lodge. Tressie watched them go, smiling at the teamwork and companionship between the two.

Latie watched the women finish up and leave, she and Brenan were left alone in the spacious lodge. Her hands trembled as she topped off her own tea cup, and she replaced the top on the small basket before turning back to look at her mate.

Brenan had been so quiet all morning, saying little and what he did say was no more than to answer her queries as minimally as possible. She knew his stomach was still bothering him, but that seemed to be the least of his problems. Even Bralut had not put a smile on his face, and that was rare indeed.

Latie had never been so scared as she had been last night when Brenan had failed to return from the spirit world with the rest of them. Her entire life had felt threatened like she had never before thought possible. The fear, the empty feeling during that momentous struggle to help him back had taken its toll on her. He had been different, so subdued ever since, not like her strong willed mate at all. It worried her, and she wanted nothing more than to have him back, back like he normally was.

"More tea?" She asked softly.

Brenan was slow to answer, and when he did it was after a long moment of consideration and thought. "Yes, please. It's very good." His normally confident voice was so soft, so indecisive.

Latie took the cup and refilled it. She handed it back and Brenan took it without looking at her. He still had that blank, far away look in his eyes. Brenan had been like this since he woke up, distant and bland, like his mind was somewhere else. Somewhere far away. That look, it was more than unnerving, it was scary all by itself.

"Would you like something to eat?" Latie asked. "There is hot stew and grain cakes, I would be happy to get you some."

Brenan stared straight ahead, unblinking. The words registered slowly, and when he realized what Latie offered, the edges of his lips turned up ever so gently, creating a very slight grin.

"Yes, stew would be good. Thank you."

Latie set her cup down and stood up. She leaned over and kissed the top of his unruly hair before turning to leave the lodge. The smeared body paint gave him a ghostly appearance, she wished she could get him to go wash it all off. Maybe after he eats something, she thought as she walked out into the bright sunshine outside. Latie wiped a tear off her cheek, took a deep breath, and walked slowly over to the main fire where the hunters still laughed and carried on.

I'm glad someone's happy this morning, she thought with a bit of irony, her steps heavy as she approached the happy group.

**********

Mog-ur sat on his bench, eyes closed with his hands pressed together in front of his chest. He wore his plaque, with the mammoth side out. A sad look permeated his strongly featured face, and his shoulders slumped slightly.

The breeze was cool off the flats below, carrying with it the soft plethora of scents of all the different animals down below. The shade just now reached his seat, and his head, chest, and shoulders were still in the sun. Warm, but not unpleasantly hot yet, the shade would cover him well before the heat of the day built up. The bright blue skies were streaked with thin striated clouds.

It was hard to believe, he thought as he concentrated on the ramifications of his experience with the sacred root. Mog-ur could remember everything about the trip with amazing clarity now, he had not slept, preferring instead to concentrate and commit everything that happened to memory. All of it. It took the better part of the night to get it all straight in his head, at first his memory came back to him in little bits and pieces. As the night wore on, it came back to him in larger, more detailed chunks. Near dawn, he had the whole picture of the extraordinary experience filed safely into his permanent memories.

Creb had laid it all out, in plain language, simplistically final. The Clan is doomed. Destined to be no more. Gone forever. Nothing left but the bones of the dead. Mog-ur felt a weight lift off his shoulders as the finality and sadness of it all settled over his entire being. It surrounded him, wrapping him up in the truth of the final fate of the Clan. As frightening as it all was, he had somehow made peace with it, fighting it was just not rational. Creb knew, and Creb was the most powerful mog-ur to ever live. Doubting his words would be foolish.

At least Ursus is not angry for all I have done, he thought to himself. An element of fear that had plagued Mog-ur for a long time was somehow gone now, though he wasn't aware of when it left.

Changing the old ways as he had, and allowing it all to play out, even encouraging it without adamant pause or reservation. Minimizing the hierarchy of status within the rigid Clan structure itself, hunting with the new, unusual weapons of the Others, actually joining with them to live, prospering incredibly with these odd, but resourceful people. Abandoning our traditional way of life, changing, adapting, evolving. All of it was so contradictory to the old ways, the traditional Clan ways. What did the old one eyed mog-ur actually say? Mog-ur thought about the conversation, going through it all word for word in his mind. Pleased beyond belief that he could do so easily.

'Ursus never meant for the Clan to stop learning, but somehow, by the teachings of the current mog-urs, for the most part we have.'

Mog-ur could almost hear the old man's words in his head again right now as he had last night, it still spooked him, so unnatural, so unworldly. So very intimate. These words haunted him, intrigued him, he listened to them again and again. Over and over.

Guilty, he pronounced himself. I am guilty of all this and more. Mog-ur knew that it wasn't just him, the last Clan meeting the mog-urs spent a lot of time actually talking of ways to tighten up the way of life the Clan lived by. Creb knew this also, he told me so. I did not do enough to protest these changes, Mog-ur thought to himself, though I didn't necessarily agree, I did not oppose them strongly enough. I did not speak out like I should have. Admit it, old man, his self induced chastisement continued, the added power the mog-urs gave themselves was oddly seductive. In many ways, they had preempted the authority of the Clan leaders, though done in small, incremental ways. Guilty.

It must not have been just us, Mog-ur continued his thoughts, other Clans must be doing the same thing. Redefining the Clan way of life, adding more and more rules to live by. More rules to prevent growth, to stymie ourselves. Jading the Clan more and more, preventing us from evolving. Ultimately dooming us as a people.

That's it, we have prevented ourselves from keeping up with a constantly changing world, he realized. The thought brought on another level of sadness. A deeper level of frustration and helplessness. We have doomed ourselves, Mog-ur thought, chastising himself all over again. This is what Creb meant, this is what he has foretold to me.

Without trying, the voice in his head began again, and he couldn't help but to pay attention and to listen.

'As you have found, the old ways were not always as they are now.'

Mog-ur blanched. This is true, he knew, the old ways were no where near as sharply defined. No where near as stringent, as rigid, as uncompromising. What caused all this to change, he wondered almost afraid of the answers. He took a deep breath and delved back, back into the memories, back into the deepest known histories of his people.

It was cold here, but Mog-ur had been this deep in the past before and though slightly uncomfortable, he was no longer afraid.

**********

"So did you find what you were after?" Matera asked as she looked deep into Vincavec's sparkling, tired eyes. She sat beside him near the ground ovens on a small log, watching him eat a platter of leftover fruits from last night.

Vincavec chewed the sweet blackberries slowly, relishing the way the berries just melted in his mouth, exploding with tart, sweet flavor. Matera looked as good as these berries taste, he thought, and his entire body and mind felt somehow refreshed, though he still a little weary.

"That and more." Vincavec said as soon as he swallowed, then took a sip of tea and went on.

"I did the right thing---we did the right thing. We couldn't have saved the other camps. Your Sturgeon Camp, the Amber Camp, them and all the others were destined to be destroyed. There was nothing we could have done to stop it, to prevent any of it. Had we tried, we would have been caught up in the slaughter, and the Lion Camp and the Aurochs Camp would have been wiped out too. I know this now." Vincavec felt the weight of it all pressing down on him again as he spoke on.

"Old Mamut told me some incredible things." Vincavec smiled, but his eyes held a soft glow of melancholy.

"So you did see him?" Matera asked as she plucked a berry from Vincavec's platter.

"Yes. He told me that he had put the thoughts in my head to go, to go and warn the Lion Camp. To save them from the raiders of the north."

Matera smiled a wry little grin. "He told you all that, did he?"

Vincavec grinned back at her, he knew he would have trouble believing such a story himself. It did all sound so---so what, so far fetched? So impossible?

"That and more." He looked into her eyes, his face becoming more solemn, more serious.

"Mamut said that the Cave Bear Camp escaped. They fled to the west and got away." He grinned. "They are alive and doing well in a large, fertile valley."

Matera fought off the urge to laugh aloud, but Vincavec knew—he knew how this all must sound. In her place, he may have even been even more skeptical than she was.

"Though I can't see any possible reason right now, one day I may want---may need to go back there. Back to that awful, terrible, wonderful place. If I do, I think you should go with me. It's something you have to experience to believe."

Matera's grin vanished. She had seen enough of the strange powers of the sacred root of the Clan, and she had seen just how dangerous it was and how easy it was to be lost there forever. Brenan's ordeal was more than enough to keep her away from that place. Matera was a mother now, the way she viewed such things had changed. Changed forever.

"I don't think so—no, not me." Her voice was soft as she carefully considered her next words. When she did speak, her voice was much firmer, more commanding in tone.

"Not you either."

**********

Latie looked around from the central fire, the camp was a slow motion sea of activity. From where she was, she saw Vincavec and Matera deep in conversation off by themselves near the ground ovens. She looked around some more, something was going on everywhere she looked.

Bralut was playing with Brydag and Manut, Rugie keeping an eye on them as they wrestled and played in the short grass between two huts at the far left side of the camp. The boys were so rambunctious, so full of boundless energy. Rugie had her hands full at time keeping up with them, but she had enough Nezzie in her to ultimately prevail.

Frebec and Rymar stood between two huts on the east side of the camp, observing the already knee high wheat and oats growing there. It was obvious that they were trying to figure out how to add to this patch of such a wonderful potential grain crop of the future. It was strange, Latie thought, that the plants grew there but nowhere else in the camp. They will figure it out, she mused, surely.

The hunters were scattered into three small groups, working on weapons, as usual. The largest group carved on long, bowed sticks, flattening them with specially made flint tools. Probably to make the new weapon, the bow, Latie thought as her eyes roamed from one gather to the next. Wymez chipped the stone with his tight group of accomplices, and nearby, Salen and his bunch smoothed and straightened raw shafts for spears.

Latie was pleased to see Jozen and Thorec with the bow carvers, and Ludeg worked the stone with Wymez' group. Troog slicked a long, thick shaft with a blunted flint tool, working alongside Salen. It pleased her to see the injured men sitting and participating with their peers. None of the injured seemed to be having any undue side effects except for the small patches of infections that were easy enough to treat when they popped up. Slow moving and sore, they were actually healing well, only Jozen may have any real lasting effects from his injuries, she thought with a slight grin.

Inca and Nezzie fiddled around the fire, stirring the two stew skins and keeping an eye on them. Ova and Silvie fussed over a wide platter of cooked meat slabs, slicing them into thin, short strips to add to the stews. Tulie and Tessie tended to the drying rack where the meat there was ready to take down, and more waited in a nearby pile.

Fralie and Marsie tended the small children and babies. Bectie helped, never straying very far away from her mother. They had a good spot in the shade on some soft grass where there were several skins laid out creating a wide, furry carpet for the babies to sleep on. Deegie and Stolie sat in the middle of the babies, and cuddled and caressed the youngest ones, tending to their every possible want or need.

Danug walked into camp from the east with Branag and Druwez following close in tow. They all carried a single, heavy flat paving stone each, sweating and grunting under the weight as they came in. There was a sizable pile of stones west of the ground ovens, and these would add to them.

Tronie and Jaycie worked on new clothes under the western shelter. A huge pile of skins behind them, they cut and pieced them together while carrying on a constantly running conversation. Tonie, Nuvie, and a couple of the other young girls helped out, giggling happily as they worked.

The camp went through all the motions of another peaceful day. Busy but not strained, productive, leisurely. This is such a good place to live, Latie thought as she slowly scanned the area again before briefly wondering where her mate had gotten off to.

**********

Brenan walked slowly along the edge of the cliff. The stair landing loomed directly ahead of him, and he stopped to look at it. It was quite the piece of work, and so very efficient. Though steep and narrow in more than a few places, the path down the side of the cliff was well made. Even when loaded down with weapons and meat, the way up and down was easy enough to navigate. Without it, the most fertile hunting grounds of this bountiful land would not be accessible, this much he knew for sure.

He walked on.

A pair of bright, colorful songbirds played chase through a wide bush off to his left, and Brenan stopped to watch their amusing antics. Flashes of bright blue and green feathers through the thick, leaf covered branches shone brightly in the sunlight. Hopping from limb to limb, the brighter of the two was intent on catching the slightly drab other bird. She was quick, though, and he had quite a chase on his hands. It proved to be a delightful, temporary diversion from Brenan's lingering melancholy. There was a lot on his mind, the after effects of the spirit journey were absolutely suffocating him. Too much he couldn't remember this time, too many gaps. Big, scary gaps. What he did remember was even scarier than the first time. Especially the swirling fog.

Brenan took another step as the songbirds took off down over the edge of the cliff, disappearing in a rush. He made a face, then reached down to pick up a small stone that he had just stepped on. Turning it over in his hand, Brenan admired the little rock, it was quite unlike anything he had ever seen before. One side was smooth and deep grey, shaped like it was a small part of a much larger sphere. The other side was magnificent. Bright blue points, some broken at jagged angles, some still sharp. They looked just like how the ice used to form on the doorways of the Lynx Camp, only these were brighter and sharper.

The memories surged through him, the camp of his childhood, the camp of his mother and the man of his hearth, his friends and mentors. Brenan sat down, crossing his stiff legs in front of him. The Lynx Camp, his old home, the home of his loved ones. Gone. Destroyed. Everyone dead. Everyone. His head sagged until his stubbly chin touched his bare chest. His tears fell.

**********

"...but I can't, it is impossible to describe how it is there. It is all so surreal, so different from anything I have ever seen." Vincavec said with a puzzled look on his face. "It would be like trying to explain a metaphysical search to one that has never done it."

"But I have searched, I know the oddities of the worlds of the spirits. How the real and the surreal blend together and blur, how difficult it is to see the truth of the situation. Of all people, Vinc, I can see what you saw if you'll just describe it to me. Give me details, show me what you saw, all of it." Matera said in her most soothing tone of voice. It's the only way, she reasoned, make him talk it all out.

Matera knew that Vincavec's melancholy would go unchecked unless he opened up to her, and whether she actually believed the entire story wasn't all that important right now. What was important was that whatever conclusions he could come to, whether Old Mamut actually told him things or not, she could agree too. Matera could make Vincavec believe that the Cave Bear Camp did indeed survive. Removing the guilt and the burden from his shoulders was what he needed, it was the best way to heal him so he can move on.

Vincavec closed his eyes, recreating all that his mind would allow him to do. A rash of chill bumps started on his forearms and rapidly spread up his arms. Images started forming in his mind, tumbling in nothingness, too black to see...

**********

It's true, we have taken away our abilities to grow by the actions we took. Mog-ur watched a particularly interesting portion of a memory of a meeting of mog-urs. It all happened long, long ago, in a place he didn't recognize. These men actually discussed possible changes to suit themselves, to take power away from the Clan leaders and give it to them.

How extraordinary, Mog-ur mused as he watched it all play out in his mind. Greed, hunger for power, selfishness. These men knowingly twisted the wishes of Ursus for their own purposes. A sudden realization came to him, the Clan got complacent. Life got just a little too easy, too fruitful. This was the backdrop for it all, this was how it started.

Mog-ur noticed something else taking place too, something else that surprised him. The more sunami they ingested, the more power hungry and selfish they got. The longer they stayed under the influence of this powerful drug induced trance, the more they yearned for power. The more they plotted and planned. It is very alluring, he thought, watching the weaknesses of the holy men as power actually seemed to seduce them.

I know these feelings, he admitted, it is all so easy to just go along. Don't object, even when you know in your heart it is not the will of Ursus. Go along, cause no waves, accept the will of the adamant few.

This is how my people were betrayed. This is why we die. It is not the will of Ursus that the mog-urs were concerned with, it was selfish greed. Holy men, Mog-ur thought with disgust, and I was one of them. Am one of them. As guilty as they are. Ursus, can you ever forgive me?

**********

The sun grew strong and hot into the afternoon. The breezes stilled somewhat, but there were now a few clouds blowing in from the southwest.

Brug walked out toward the practice field with a pair of new arrows sticking up above the other eight. These had larger, longer bone points and slightly thicker shafts made of cane. Slightly longer, the new arrows were close in overall weight to his old arrows. The cane was stiff enough feeling, but so light he worried it might throw the tender balance off in the trajectory of the arrow's flight. At the back of the arrow, where it was notched to fit into the bowstring, a nib of carved bone fit over the butt of the cane, wrapped tightly with sinew.

It was Druwez who had come up with this new way of making the slender projectiles, with Branag and Ludeg helping him work out the intricate details. Rymar had come up with the bone tip at the butt, but Ludeg had actually carved the pieces.

Brug was honored that Druwez gave the arrows to him to try, though Brug knew that he was by far the most accomplished with the bow, it was slightly unexpected. Druwez was one of his hunters, and like Mortan, one of the best friends he had. Between the three of them, there was no ego, only dedicated hunters.

The trail was rather well worn, and Brug walked without paying too much attention in the overly familiar surroundings. The thick tree cover began to thin out slowly, and the grass grew in clumps, some rather tall as their ability to get adequate sun increased. There was a slight rustling in the nearly knee high grass to his right, and Brug was instantly on guard. He pulled his spear up and froze in place, eyes penetrating through the grass as well as they could, spying a brief flash of black through the light green.

A slender black foot reached up and pulled down a seed topped strand of the thin bladed grass stalks. White stripes in a field of black on a rather delicate looking head appeared and Brug stepped back slowly. He had learned the hard way as a rather young boy that this pretty, lithe little animal was able to send out a stream of very unpleasant scent that took days to get off. Bad, really bad, strong smelling scent. He walked slowly away from the zorilla, giving him the respect he demanded.

As Brug gave him a wide berth, slowly circling the handsome zorilla who contentedly ate the top seeds off the stalk first. He kept an eye on him as he put a good distance between them.

When Brug was far enough away, he turned to face the open field. Standing between the two farthest targets, a tall, slim, dark skinned youth stood staring at him. Brug bared his teeth and raised a hand in greeting.

**********

Tulie sat on the wide rock, dangling her feet in the cool water of the creek.

Barzec sat beside her, wondering what she wanted to talk to him about. She had been acting a little strangely for the past week or so, but he had not pressed her. Tulie had her own ways, her own needs, Barzec knew, and he was a rather patient man. Besides, he thought, with all the recent excitement going on with the hunt and the celebrations and all, she had been awfully busy.

Tulie kicked the water like a child would splashing water all over their lower legs, catching Barzec off guard, making him smile. She looked over at him, smiling sweetly herself.

What a beautiful woman, he thought to himself, admiring her sparkling eyes. Eyes that usually held the weight of leadership in them, eyes that rarely looked as innocently happy as they did right now. Tulie was beginning to show a few signs of aging, slight wrinkles around those bright eyes, small lines developing around the edges of her mouth, a little grey creeping into her dark mane. It just makes her more alluring, he thought, more appealing.

"It's been a long time, a long journey." Tulie said softly. "I haven't been as good a mate to you as I could have. Please forgive me and know that I love you."

Tulie leaned down and kissed her considerably shorter mate on the lips tenderly. When she sat back up, there were tears in her eyes.

"We have been through so much, been on the go for so long. I know I have been hard to live with, specially since we lost Brinan," A fat tear rolled down her cheek. "But I think I am finally able to be at peace with his memory now."

Tulie paused and wiped the tear off her cheek with the back of her hand.

"I miss him too." Barzec whispered, wrinkling his brow sadly.

"We've lost a lot of good people since this all began. Loved ones that I will always think should come out and fetch a cup of tea in the mornings. I think about them every morning these days. All of them. But especially Brinan. Oh, Barzec, I miss him so much."

Tulie broke down and sobbed on Barzec's shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her wide, strong body close. His own tears fell, and together, they comforted each other as only a real couple could.

After a while their tears were spent, but they still held each other tight. Barzec was surprised when Tulie's body began to shake softly. Unless he was sorely mistaken, she was laughing. After a little while, her body shook a little harder and he was sure, she was laughing.

Without knowing why, he was slowly caught up by the infectious chuckling and began to laugh himself. Before long, they pulled apart just enough to smile at each other through the laughter.

"You know, I am not quite as old and decrepit as I must look these days." Tulie said, starting to giggle like a little girl.

Barzec was perplexed, he would never, ever understand a woman's mood swings.

"Your spirit is still strong, old man." She continued, grinning broadly. "Mut has blessed me."

Barzec tilted his head back and looked up to the sky. He whooped out suddenly and loudly, just like a youngster after making a first kill. Barzec did it again and laughed aloud, she couldn't have said anything that could have possibly pleased him more. For now, he felt like a young man all over again without a care in the world.

Tulie just smiled.

**********

Brenan looked up, surprised to see the Mog-ur sitting on his bench in the pleasant looking shade. He had walked slowly on down the ridge, not really paying much attention to where he was going when he saw the Mog-ur. He looked to be in deep meditation, and Brenan stopped, not wanting to disturb the old holy man.

Mog-ur felt the intruding presence, and slowly brought himself out of the trance he was in, still exploring old memories, and opened his eyes. When he saw Brenan, he was pleasantly surprised and slowly unclasped his hands and waved him over.

Brenan felt a little guilty for bothering him, but walked over anyway. Mog-ur slid over on the bench, and motioned for Brenan to sit with him. Brenan sat down, it was barely wide enough for the two of them to sit side by side without touching. He handed the Mog-ur the odd, broken rock.

Mog-ur took the stone, and listed it up in front of his face to study it. He had always liked Brenan, but now he had a few new insights into the young man of the Others having gone on the spirit trip with him. Brenan was a strong, well rounded, sensitive man, he thought as he examined the pretty rock. I understand his trepidations about the spirit world much better now, Mog-ur thought as he handed the stone fragment back to Brenan.

'Is pretty rock, is good omen.' He signed slowly. 'I was thinking of past. It has been long journey.'

Brenan smiled and signed back slowly. 'Long journey, hard times.'

Mog-ur nodded. 'This is good place to sit and think. You need to think too?'

Brenan grinned, and nodded his head.

'Good, sit with me and think. Is good sometimes to think of past, to remember. Think of good and bad, happy, sad. Lessons learned. Think of past, make peace with bad memories. Grow inside.' He tapped his chest as he finished signing for emphasis. Mog-ur then closed his eyes, clasped his hands back in the familiar way in front of his chest and took a deep breath.

Brenan watched the old man for a moment, liking him greatly, then closed his own eyes. This is a good place to sit and think, he realized, cool and comfortable. Brenan felt a little foolish at first, just sitting next to the holy man, but he was comfortable here. Maybe Mog-ur is right, maybe it is a good thing to reflect, to examine the past and all the various lessons learned. Perhaps this is the answer to the empty feelings I've had since returning from the spirit world. Make peace with the bad memories he said, Brenan thought about this concept for a while, it seemed somehow possible.

Slowly, Brenan delved into a peaceful, serene place in his mind. At first, he could feel this peaceful feeling slowly wrap itself around him and it felt vaguely reminded him of Latie when she would occasionally put him at ease by wrapping him up in her arms. His mind felt light and airy, and he felt his consciousness wander. Wandering into the past, slowly and gradually.

An overwhelming feeling of sadness began as his thoughts roamed back, all the way back to his mother and the man of his hearth. The last time he had seen them was at the fateful summer meeting where the Mamutoi had come apart at the seems as a people. The memory of his mother's smile took him back to his childhood, back to more happy, carefree times.

Back to the time when he began each day with old Grodec, the man who taught him everything he knew about hunting, stalking, and surviving out in the wilds all alone. Grodec had been at the summer meeting too, and Brenan had been as glad to see him as he was his own parents.

Of all people, only Grodec had understood Brenan's deep seeded need to leave the Lynx Camp. He was probably the one who knew him best, knew how he thought and why. Brenan remembered what Grodec had told him the morning he left the Lynx Camp, destined to never return.

"Remember what all I've taught you, you are now the finest stalker and tracker I have ever seen. Always keep your extra spear ready, Mut likes to throw an extra challenge our way ever so often. It's always best to be prepared."

Brenan could still see the old man's grin, wrinkled and wise. You taught me enough to survive, he thought, and then some. Brenan silently thanked his old teacher again, it was so true, Mut did throw unexpected challenges at him, lots of them.

His thoughts roamed back to the long standing routine of daily afternoon lessons with the mamut of the Lynx Camp. Brenan wasn't as good a student as he should have been, his mind often wandered and he asked too many questions. It always seemed that the more he learned, the more questions he had. He argued too many of the answers he received, Brenan had a hard time accepting things that just didn't sound right to him. Discussions of this type didn't go over well with the extremely rigid thinking mamut. I guess I just wasn't cut out to be a mamut, he thought to himself, remembering how terribly frustrating it all was at the time.

He remembered the good times helping his mother, she was such an accomplished healer. Priva was one of those that the healers of other camps came to when they needed help. She was such a good teacher that Brenan didn't realize what all she had taught him until later in life. Much later in fact when the knowledge he carried within himself just came out as needed.

Bremac, the man of his hearth must have known the extent of his healing skills. He took Brenan out with the hunters on major hunts at a much earlier age than he normally would have. Brenan was the one they all called on to help out with many a wounded or injured hunter, and he never disappointed. Always knowing at least enough to get the injured stable and back to camp for Priva to work her true healing magic.

It was hard to believe that these people are probably all dead now, killed by the raiders of the north. When Vincavec had told him what all Old Mamut had said, Brenan had been totally crushed. It was bad enough to assume the worst, but it was much worse to have it all confirmed.

His mind wandered on, thinking now of the lonely, dangerous trek he made through the cold of winter all the way to the Lion Camp. The hardships he endured along the way, the incredible satisfaction of making the journey alone safely. Old Grodec had indeed taught him well, he thought with a smile at the fact that he had managed the long trek without overly taxing himself. It was actually quite a feat, going that far through the dead of winter all alone, but to Brenan it had been just a necessary part of his journey to find all those elusive answers.

Brenan thought of the strange welcome he got when he finally arrived at the Lion Camp. Of the looks on all their faces when he answered their questions on why he had come all this way. He remembered seeing Latie, of the fluttering of his heart at the mere sight of her. Why was it like that, he wondered, I had known Latie for a long time. Why was she so irresistible then when she hadn't been before? Brenan concentrated on this for a while, but came to no real conclusion, and finally went on.

Old Mamut had been so kind and so indulgent. But the wise old man had been so frustrating at the same time. Brenan grinned at the fond memories, it was a lot easier to understand him now.

He had asked Mamut so many questions, there had been so much that he wanted, no, needed to know. That old man was so knowledgeable, Brenan remembered. He always had a way about him that made you answer so many of the questions yourself, Brenan thought, grinning while remembering that antagonizing twinkle in Old Mamut's eyes. Answering a question with a question to make you think, making you reason it out all by yourself. Brenan chuckled, it had all been so frustrating at the time, but he had learned so much. Old Mamut helped fill the void inside himself, that hole inside him that was so insatiable. So much he needed to know, so many questions.

Mamut was so patient, even when Brenan showed such deep reluctance in learning or participating in anything metaphysical. Mamut pushed all the right buttons though, and Brenan went along with it all.

Brenan felt a tear escape his closed eye when he thought of Old Mamut the morning after the fateful trip into the spirit world. He blanched at what all had occurred then, of learning of the encroaching raiding party that set into motion the incredible, frightening series of events that had changed his life forever. The things he told Brenan would never be forgotten, ever.

He remembered the closeness that he had felt for Latie as they studied together under the wise old man. The discreet discussions in the evenings after a full day with the old man lecturing and testing them. A flush of warmth washed over him as he remembered their first kiss. He shuddered involuntarily, smiling broadly.

The happy memories were suddenly interrupted by the suddenness of Old Mamut's death. It had to have been the saddest funeral service he had ever attended, with Latie somehow presiding over it flawlessly. The way she signed in the Clan language, which he didn't even understand at the time throughout the last portion of the service was awe inspiring.

Brenan remembered holding Latie all night long after the funeral, comforting her and being comforted back in return. The closeness they had felt came to a true fruition that night, and I asked her to be mine forever, he thought back, smiling inside. That may have been the scariest thing I've ever done, he admitted to himself, but the most satisfying too.

He thought about the fear he had when he asked for permission to mate with her the next morning. Talut was such an imposing figure, teasing him, making it all harder than it had to be. Nezzie coming to the rescue, welcoming him like the all encompassing mother figure that she was and would always be. Tears streaked down his cheeks, happy tears.

His memory blurred for a while, running over the rapid events that followed. The difficult trek cross country, the tough river crossings. Frebec and Branag's close call with the snow leopard. Losing Worlen hunting rhinos, almost losing Talut there too.

That second trip into the spirit world, all the fear and angst that went with it. All the people that died at the ambush. How their dead, wide eyed faces haunted his dreams for so long.

Building the new lodge for Vincavec's people in that incredible wooded valley. The mating ceremony with Latie, and the scary close call with that monster sized cave lion with one green eye during their matrimonial seclusion.

The trek to the summer meeting, the total chaos there. The madness of the split between the Mamutoi. The hard feelings, the anger, the lies, creating a separation that eventually doomed the Mamutoi forever more as a single people. But there was happiness there too, he smiled at the better memories. Seeing his family for the last time, glad for them to know of his mating and high station within the hierarchy of the Lion Camp. Ranec and Tricie showing up miraculously, safe and well after all that time after having been considered dead and gone.

Brenan thought back to the long, arduous return trip home. These more recent memories flooded his mind like an incoming tide. So many things were different when they finally got there.

The almost unbelievable oddity of a group of Clan actually living with the Aurochs Camp. Stranger still, more of them living at the Lion Camp. Getting to know these incredible people, growing to love them as family. Realizing that they were as smart and resourceful a people as he had ever known. The diligence of their hunters, the depth of knowledge of edible plants of their women. Oh, and the skills of their cooking, his stomach growled at the thoughts of the vast array of succulent Clan dishes.

Danug returning, what a fun time that was. Nezzie was so happy you would have thought she had just had twins. All the stories of his adventures, some so amazingly similar to many of my own, Brenan remembered with a smile.

The incredible night that Bralut was born. Brenan had never been so nervous nor felt so helpless. He had never been so incredibly fulfilled though, and his life was changed forever at the little man's arrival. Changed for the better.

Brenan couldn't help but to remembered the sadness that early spring day when the entire Clan gathered up and left, beginning their own incredible journey to the distant lands of their ancestors. How empty the huge Lion Camp lodge felt in their absence, how heart wrenching it was to see them go.

That turned out to be the weirdest spring of them all, he thought. Cleaning out the lodge, settling in to a new family life with a new son of his hearth. What a joy Bralut is, the warmth and depth of feelings he constantly evoked. What a happy, fulfilling time.

Brenan thought back to the strange, sad morning when Crozie died. He remembered questioning anything and everything in the days that followed. The ultra simplicity of life itself, here today, gone tomorrow. It was a mind altering experience, one that stayed with him forever.

Then Vincavec came with the news that would again alter the course of my life, he thought back to that fateful day. News of the raiders from the north, coming again with ill intentions. The angst of the split between the Mamutoi people coming to a frightful head, all over again. The decision to flee, not to stand and fight. At least now I know it was the right thing to do, he thought.

What a journey, leaving the Lion Camp had proved even more difficult than leaving the Lynx Camp had been. The hardship of traveling with such an incredibly large, diverse group. Women and children, babies and old folks, the strong and the weak. Challenge upon challenge, one after the other, never ending obstacles.

Traveling across strange lands, flooded river crossings, lands of plenty, barren stretches that seemed to go on forever. Grass fires, storms, mud, forests so thick we could barely walk through them, we had seen it all and somehow persevered. Hunting, searching, always trying to gain time to somehow catch up with the Clan that had over a full moon's head start on them. How impossible it all seemed back then.

Brenan thought back to that first brief encounter with the people he would later come to know as the Eastern Savages. What an exotic, handsome people they were from a distance. What a total terror they were up close. He remembered thinking that there was some kind of odd kinship between them and the northern Mamutoi at the time, at least by the way they acted and behaved.

That incredible morning that Branag suddenly ran away from the small scouting party. Seeing him and Brug together again, the love between them. Meeting up with the rest of the Clan, the intense joy of it all.

How remarkable it was to have us all back together again, just one big happy family. It was such a happy time, though harder still traveling with an even larger group, he remembered with a smile.

Then came the second encounter with the Eastern Savages. Bad times, fear and loathing, death and sadness. What a fight for survival that was, Brenan thought, what a challenge to us all.

Losing Manuv and Aba to the savages, many more injured. Getting away, fleeing farther and farther into the unknown.

Getting to the ocean, that was a real turning point in the journey, Brenan thought to himself. A time of plenty after a time of intense challenge. Brug and Mortan getting caught by a fish, Brenan chuckled at the memory. What a fish it was.

Slowing down for a while, finally, to fatten up and rest. Then the incredible half moon period when all the babies were born. Three Clan, four Others, all healthy and well formed. What a happy time it was as the air grew colder and the leaves began to fall. The light snowfall, possibly the last snow he would ever see.

It turned out to be a brief respite before coming across the Eastern Savages one more time. This time, their numbers were beyond counting.

What a struggle it was, trying to get past the Eastern Savages around the steep side of the mountain and through the narrow trail on the cliff that bordered the ocean below.

The huge, formidable smoking mountain. That treacherous smoking mountain where we took on the savages for the last time. The ambush, the screaming of the dead, the blood. The very ground shaking, rocks falling, molten lava.

A tear slid down his cheek as he thought about losing the two children when a falling boulder took them and almost half the trail overboard into the crashing sea below. Brave Gralon who dove off into the white capped surf and gave up his life trying to save them. The terrible image of the immense orca that took him from behind.

Traveling south, always farther south. Hunting and fishing and gathering as we went, always struggling to have enough to eat. The dangers of hunting in strange places, seeing species of animals they had never seen before.

That terrible day when they lost Borg during the fateful mammoth hunt, it was also the day Crag saved Brug and Mortan from a dirk toothed tiger, costing him his life. Two men lost in one day, two men of the Clan.

Brenan took a quivering breath, tears rolling down his cheeks. We have lost so many people, so many good people in the last two years, he thought, seeing each of their faces in his mind. Familiar faces, old and young, all gone now.

After a while, the faces he saw slowly began to smile at him, one by one. Though he didn't realize what was happening quite yet, Brenan was on the first step of making peace with them, all of them. His breathing slowed and his tears dried up, his mind wandered on.

On back to the last parts of the journey as the weather warmed and the landscape changed even more. Finding the plateau and following it south. The bountiful flats down below with more animals than he had ever seen before, strange looking animals with even stranger names. Wymez and Mog-ur's knowledge of the lands and animals coming in handy, sharing knowledge they would otherwise not have.

On to the wide, beautiful river full of crocodiles. On to the beautiful waterfall and the huge lake below. On to the clearing in the shade of the wide arc of trees that was now home.

Brenan felt the contentment slowly returning. The warm feelings gradually overpowering the raw, empty feelings that had been so overwhelming him ever since the spirit trip. This is such a great home, he thought again, so full of bounty. So very beautiful, so warm.

It dawned on Brenan slowly, and it was more than a little unexpected when the realization set in. This was home, the Lynx Camp and the Lion Camp—all the lands of the Mamutoi, they weren't his home anymore. Were they ever truly my home, he asked himself, or were they just brief stops along my life's path, places to stop and grow in?

Brenan grinned, was this what Mog-ur was trying to tell me, he wondered. Was Mog-ur doing what Old Mamut used to do, make me search out and find the answers all by myself—with a little well placed prodding, that is. He chuckled aloud, softly.

An odd sound brought him out of his deep thoughts, not recognizing it at first, Brenan's eyes flew open to quickly assess the situation. What he saw almost floored him.

It was almost dusk, the shadows were long and the sun was really low in the sky. They had been here all afternoon, where had the time gone?

The sound again, this time it made Brenan chuckle all over again. Mog-ur was snoring. He still sat upright right beside him, still rigid, and had his hands still clasped together as before.

If this is my destiny, Brenan thought, looking up into the very beginnings of the beautiful pastel colors of the first signs of the sunset and thinking of Old Mamut, I'll take it. Thank you Mamut, he thought. Thank you Mog-ur.

He grinned, and placed his hand gently on Mog-ur's shoulder. The soft snoring stopped immediately as the old man opened his eyes and turned to face him.

'Ready go back?' Brenan signed with his free hand.

Mog-ur looked around getting his bearings, giving no indication that he had been asleep. When he turned back toward Brenan, he signed slowly.

'Feel better? Did long think help?'

Brenan laughed, and nodded his head.

"Mog-ur", all is good.'

Mog-ur sat still for a long moment, silently reflecting on his own recollections and conclusions. He then slowly bared his teeth to smile back awkwardly at Brenan.

'You are correct, young man, all is good.'

The two men got up off the bench and walked over to the edge of the cliff. They stood still and watched the finest, most beautiful sunset develop and play out slowly before them. The low clouds that had been so far away on the horizon earlier were passing directly overhead now, and the colors they garnered were incredible.

The herds down on the flats below began to bed down slowly in small groups. Several long trails of them came wandering back from the lake or the river beyond. The entire flats teemed with life, slow now as the day ended.

The colors affected them from this vantage point on top of the cliff dramatically. The most striking of them all were the zebras. Brilliant yellow and black stripes, how extraordinary.

A single cheetah trotted through the small breaks in the herds. Always watched and feared, always respected.

A particularly vocal pair of peacocks called out to each other from a good distance away, one from the east, the other from the west. Their odd songs accenting the magnificent sunset with a touch of grandeur.

It was the perfect gift from Mut and from Ursus. Exactly what they each needed to see after the intense soul searching of the long afternoon. The perfect end to the day.

Just before darkness set in, they turned and walked side by side back up the trail. Both of them were starting to get pretty hungry now, and they knew that the last meal of the day would be hot, tasty, and waiting for them. As would their family, the whole camp of mixed peoples that they both loved. One camp, one family, that was so obvious now.

Their steps were light, and both men were at peace.


	42. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

_**Ten Years Later**_

Talut limped out of the hut and into the darkness. He walked slowly these days, his once bright red, thick shock of hair was much thinner now, especially on top and mostly white. He felt the aches and pains of his youth, every single one of them. All the abuse he put his massive body through over the years seemed to be catching up with him now.

The spear wound he took from the Eastern Savage's spear in the hip so long ago pained him badly these days, and favoring the one side of his body just put more pressure on the other. Walking was easy enough, if he took it slow, but running was completely out of the question anymore. Talut had lost a lot of his muscular bulk over the last several years and though still a very large man, he no longer resembled the monstrous cave bear that he once did.

He felt the pleasing warmth of the smooth paving stones under his bare feet, and saw Mog-ur sitting near the central fire as usual. He had a tea basket beside him and a steaming cup in his hands cradled in his lap. Talut and Mog-ur enjoyed their early morning teas together, it was the quietest part of the day.

Though four years younger, Mog-ur looked about ten years older than Talut. His hair and long, pointed beard were both stringy and thin, and completely white now, so white they shown brightly in the soft, flickering firelight. Mog-ur's eyes twinkled as he dipped Talut a cup of tea and held it up to him as his old friend limped over slowly.

Talut stopped and leaned over, supporting his weight with his still large, powerful arms on the log as he twisted around and eased his butt down to the level of the log. He exhaled loudly from the effort, and his face was a little red as he took the offered tea. Talut's smile hadn't changed much, and he gave the Mog-ur a big, toothy one before signing a greeting and sipping the hot tea.

The fire crackled and popped, Mog-ur had just stoked it up before Talut had come out of his hut, and the fresh sticks blazed hot and bright. The two men sat and watched the flickering flames, sipping tea. The flames swerved and danced in the soft breeze, beautiful and warm.

Rug shuffled in from direction of the western guard shelter, dragging his right leg slightly and making use of the butt of his spear like a cane making a soft shuffling sound with soft thuds as he walked. He walked directly toward the fire, and Talut had his tea dipped by the time he sat down and joined them. Despite his aches and pains, Rug still carried himself with the powerful grace and dignity of the strong leader of men that he was.

It had become a habit for the three of them to get together like this for quite a some time now. All were chronically early risers, and as the years passed they seemed to need less and less sleep anyway. If one of them didn't show, the new day just didn't seem to start correctly for the other two, but that was rare.

An owl hooted from the far end of the arc of trees to the southwest. He was a local, and often joined them as well. They all welcomed his pleasant, slightly haunting songs, they went perfectly with the tea and the usual stillness of the pre-dawn mornings.

'All quiet.' Rug signed, then sipped the hot brew made with a base of alfalfa and a positive twinge of datura. Rug's habit of checking out all the guards was legendary. It was definitely not a good idea to get caught sleeping on watch duty, as more than a few guards had discovered over the years. The old Clan leader would quietly take all their weapons, then back off and growl like a panther, then watch them scramble about in fear. Few ever had to be awakened in this fashion more than once.

This tea was a mix that Etra made daily for the Mog-ur, there was enough datura in it to slightly dull the various aches and pains of his old joints. Though she wouldn't admit it openly, she knew that her mate, Rug, and Talut also enjoyed the soft numbing and lessening of their own numerous aches and pains. The last few years, Rug's knees and ankles had become slightly arthritic, probably from the relentless hunts and long journeys he had made over the course of his lifetime. For some reason, his right side was slightly worse off than his left, and he limped regularly these days when he walked.

Etra peeked out of the slanted window opening of the far west side of the main lodge, she watched discreetly as the three men relaxed and welcomed in the coming day. She was as studious as a mate could be, seeing to Rug's and the Mog-ur's every possible need. Her two men, she thought with feelings of immense affection and satisfaction, her own high status men. They all seemed content, so she went back to her sleeping platform and lay back down, she wasn't getting any younger these days herself either.

Brenan woke up from a dream, a happy dream of he and Latie in a calm pool of cool, clear water surrounded by flat, warm rocks. They had honored the Mother twice, and Brenan showed the affects of the sensuous dream as he sat up on the edge of the bed platform. As bad as his imminent need was to pass his morning water, he knew he would have to wait for a little bit before he could pull on his short leggings to go outside to take of it.

He eyed Latie in the dim firelight, the shadows only enhancing her finely drawn features. She was even prettier now than she had been in his dream of their youth. I'll never be able to get dressed and go outside if I keep looking at you, he thought with a smile and looked over to Bralut's bed. His strapping son snored, long and loud as usual. You are getting so big, he thought as he looked at the long, thickly muscled arm draped over the side of the platform and his hand resting on the paving stones below.

Brenan turned to look at the other bed, Nettie slept peacefully and quietly. Her hair was blonde with an orange-red tint, so much like her mother's. The seven year old was almost as pretty as Latie. Well, Brenan admitted to himself, maybe she would even be prettier as she grew up and matured. He watched the daughter of his hearth breath softly and easily, a wisp of hair crossing over her face moved ever so slightly with each breath she took. Brenan's heart swelled with the love he had for these three special people, his very own family.

With his swelling problem temporarily subsided, Brenan slipped off the edge of the bed and pulled on the short leggings he picked up off the floor. He walked quietly out of the lodge and around to the back where a small ditch full of stringy, fragrant moss waited. He did his business, and decided to see if there was any tea at the main fire, knowing good and well that there would be.

Brenan joined the three men already at the fire, and graciously accepted the tea Rug offered. Morning greetings and pleasantries were exchanged. He made a sour face at the taste of the slightly strong tea, these guys liked their tea a little stronger than he was used to.

"You seem awful happy this morning." Talut said softly.

Brenan grinned, little got past Talut.

"I had the best dream..."

**********

A stocky young man of the Clan ran out of the third hut from the right of the main lodge. He clutched a bow that was a little longer than he was tall and a fat quiver of arrows in one hand, and a thick spear in the other. When he saw the men seated at the fire, he slowed a little but kept going right toward them.

Rug gave him a stern look, and the youth slowed down to a walk as he got close. It was obviously a concerted effort to keep the spring from his steps, but he did try.

'Good morning, my Clan leader.' He signed respectfully, bowing his head demurely before looking up to face the other three men. When he spoke, his voice was deep and slightly clipped. "Mog-ur, Trall-uh, Bren-nuh."

"Good morning, Craag. Are you going out with the hunters this morning?" Talut asked as he signed while he spoke.

The youth nodded his head enthusiastically and took a cup of tea from Rug as he sat down between Rug and Talut. Talut patted the youth lightly on his already broad shoulder affectionately.

Rug took the scabbard of arrows from the boy who was almost five years old now, and pulled one out to examine it. It was so much shorter than what Rug was used to seeing, but it was top quality from one end to the other. The craftsmanship of the men of this camp was superb, better than he could have imagined. Every weapon made in this camp was almost a work of art, he thought proudly. Craag watched every move the older man made as he looked over the arrow, he was so proud of all his weapons.

A stocky, tall Clan man walked out of the same hut that Craag came out of. He walked slowly to the fire carrying a full compliment of weapons under his burly, thick arm. His entire body appeared to be one solid muscle, rippling and flexing with every step he took. His shoulders were so broad and powerful looking that they almost seemed to belong to a larger man. His thick, wavy hair was pulled back into a long, loose ponytail that draped over halfway down his back in shining dark waves. He set his weapons down in a neat pile then busied himself at the fire for a little bit, making a basket of tea and heating it with stones he pulled from the embers with wooden tongs. Brug had grown into the biggest, most powerful man of the Clan that anyone had ever seen, but his friendly demeanor had never changed nor wavered over the years.

'Good morning all.' Brug signed as he held out the basket to Mog-ur who dipped a cup. Talut took one as did Brenan, but Rug was still busy with Craag's arrows.

The resemblance between Brug and the son of his hearth was remarkable, Brenan thought as he looked from one to the other. Craag could be a young Brug, built the same, overly mature for his age, and oh what a dedicated hunter he already was.

It was quiet and peaceful for a while as they sipped tea and enjoyed the coolness of the early morning. The owl hooted every now and again, and some songbirds were just beginning to sing in the impending new day from the woods to the northwest. The sky darkened even more as the stars began to fade away slowly. A single star stayed visible long after the others were gone, it was the brightest, most brilliant hearth fire in the sky.

There was a small commotion as four young men and a pretty young lady approached. They spoke rapidly amongst themselves, pushing and teasing each other as they got closer. It was a rag-tag, loose group of very obviously close friends.

"Bralut." Brenan's voice was soft, but sharp. "Keep it down, it is not necessary to wake the entire camp."

All five of them hung their heads a little, but nothing could extinguish the enthusiasm of their bubbling youth. They were all fine specimens of young people that were nearly adults. Bralut was tall, handsome, and well muscled. Brydag even taller, but a little thinner. Manut was almost the height of Bralut, but thick and very muscular in his growing bulk. Werlen was thin and wiry, and just shy of Brydag in height. Lumie was lithe and graceful, with wide shoulders and well muscled arms and legs. She was also stunningly beautiful with a thick head of dark, shiny hair.

Brug grunted, getting their immediate, undivided attention. 'We leave as soon as "Troi" and others get here, quit fooling around, get ready.'

Talut bit off a grin as he watched the chastised young ones busy themselves with their gear. They were rather efficient, he thought as he watched them get their camouflaged clothing on and in order, helping each other as they did every day.

Craag got up and joined the other youngsters, blending in easily despite the obvious age difference. He was one of them in every way, that much was for sure.

Ooga walked over with a very young baby at her breast. She was a little short, even for a woman of the Clan, but well formed and she carried herself with the confidence of the high status mate and mother that she was. Ooga stopped and knelt down in front of Brug who leaned over and gave the infant girl a soft kiss on the top of her head. Brug then kissed Ooga on top of her head.

'Get me a crocodile today?' Ooga signed with one hand, her eyes sparkling.

Brug wrinkled the skin of his forehead as he thought about the request. He looked over to Mog-ur who nodded, and at Talut who smiled broadly. Rug just nodded. Crocodile meat was a favorite of the entire camp, but especially with this group.

Mog-ur lifted his hand and made a short, fluttering sign.

'Croc it is, my mate. Croc and guinea.' Brug signed, his chiseled face stern but his deep brown eyes sparkling with love and affection. The Mog-ur looked deeply satisfied.

Ooga dipped herself a cup of tea and went back to the main fire. Craag stopped what he was doing and gave his mother a brief hug, then went back to fitting fresh cut grass into the loops criss-crossing Lumie's lower back.

Druwez and Mortan walked into the circle of firelight, Crisavec and Frebec followed closely behind them. They nodded at the men on the log, and fetched tea for themselves. Druwez was a thickly built, powerful young man now. Mortan was tall, with wide shoulders and powerful looking legs. Crisavec was short and stocky, built a lot like the father of his hearth, with a short, dark colored beard. They all carried enough weapons to stay out for half a moon cycle.

Frebec sat down next to Brenan, yawning loudly. The top of his head shown in the flickering light, Frebec had a bald semi-circle that was ringed with soft, white hair. Even his abundant chest hair was white, and it gave him an almost regal appearance.

A whistle rang out from just south of the camp, near the ground ovens. It sounded exactly like a meadowlark, perfect in every detail.

Brug stood up and turned, looking to the south and made a 'come on in' gesture with his open hand. Appearing eerily out of the darkness, a tall, dark skinned man walked toward them with three slightly shorter men that looked a lot like I him closely following. They all carried spindly looking bows and scabbards of arrows, their bodies painted with greens and tans. The whiteness of his teeth almost glowed when he smiled at Brug.

As they came into the light, the three younger men went straight to the fire where Bralut and his friends finished getting ready. The tall man came directly to Brug in front of the seating log. He held his dark hand out, palm up.

Brug grasped his hand, and uttered a single, gruff word. "Troi."

Troi smiled even wider, then answered, his voice lyrical. "Brug."

'We hunt crocodile today, and guinea.' Brug signed.

Troi grinned, then signed. 'Suidae too.'

Brug nodded.

Danug approached, dressed for the hunt with a huge longbow strung and wrapped over his shoulder. He yawned as he walked, then shook his head as if to wake up quicker. Danug was almost as big as Talut had been in his prime, without the barrel belly Talut was so famous for. Danug was thick in body, but proportioned very strongly toward a heavily muscled frame. His shoulders were so broad that they made his head appear a little small. When he saw Troi next to Brug, he grinned and walked directly to them.

"Good morning." He said, taking Troi's hand and grinning broadly. Danug pulled the bow off his shoulder and stood it up on the ground next to him. It was longer than he was tall, by a full head. The arrows in the quiver slung over his back stuck up over his head they were all so long, the multi colored feathers glistening in the firelight.

The group of hunters from the fire gathered around, impatient as usual. The adult hunters all ignored them, well aware of their presence. They sipped tea and relaxed, quietly discussing the hunt strategy of the morning.

**********

Brenan watched them go, wishing them luck and safe hunting. Latie squeezed his thigh, then lay her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her waist, hugging her. Brenan missed going out on the early morning hunts, but not too much. He still went out on the big hunts down on the flats, but not too much else. Brug's hunters were so efficient that the camp was never even slightly in need of meat, in fact, there was always a substantial variety available to suit every possible taste.

Bralut was a regular morning hunter now, and Brug had come to count on him as the leader of the younger group. He had learned his lessons well, and was so good with the bow and arrows that he had taken large game from incredible distances. The only ones who could shoot farther and more accurately was Brug and Danug. Brug's incredibly stiff and powerful bow could reach out so far it was almost unbelievable. He and Danug were so deadly accurate that very little escaped them, ever.

Brenan was proud of the first son of his hearth, and suspected that one day he would be chosen amongst the leaders of this sprawling camp. Latie nuzzled his neck, and leaned in a little closer. The warmth of her body felt exquisite, and Brenan held her closer still. The smell of her hair was fresh and held the lingering scent of strawberries. Latie, Nezzie, and Matera had come up with a way of making soap that had added ingredients for pleasant scents. Strawberry was her favorite.

Nettie came up to them, and smiled down at her parents warmly. Her bright hair long and loose, cascading over her shoulders and onto her bare chest in shimmering thick waves.

"Mother, I need help with my new outfit." Her sweet smile melted Brenan as he looked up into her pretty young face. He could almost see her as a young Latie sometimes, and this was definitely one of those times.

Latie nodded, pulling her head off Brenan's shoulder slowly. She kissed Brenan softly on the lips and got up to follow Nettie, putting her arm around the slender young girl as they walked away.

Brenan watched them, he was so happy with his life and family. They were such a joy, such a source of pride.

Life here was so good. The land was bountiful and rich. Game was plentiful and varied. Troi's people were cooperative and friendly. The Land of the Sun was a great place to live and this camp had prospered so much ever since they arrived. Brenan reached up to smooth a stray wisp of hair from his face, and saw Mog-ur looking at him. He had a knowing, satisfied look on his face.

Mog-ur lifted his hand and signed slowly.

'All is good.'

Brenan smiled contentedly, Mog-ur always seemed to be able to read his thoughts. Sometimes it was a bit unnerving, but not now, not this time. Brenan couldn't have possibly agreed more as he signed in return.

'Yes, all is good.'

.

Finis

.

'Brenan's Search' and 'Land of the Sun' are dedicated to:

** Gayla Diane Gault**

** 3/25/61-9/30/07**

_ Sis, yours is the brightest, most brilliant hearthfire in the sky, now and forever more._

_.  
_

_Thanks to all for reading and commenting._

_Jack  
_


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